Shopping with boys

I had promised TM and D. a trip to the local game store and Vietnamese market this afternoon, so that is what we did. They love this particular trip, going out without a whole bunch of little people, and were in quite pleasant moods. I only had to ask them to put their antlers away once. The trip pretty much sounded like this.

Boys: Vaguely inane and specific discussions about various cards in their deck-building strategy game they love (and the reason for the trip to the game store). I try to tune it out because it makes no sense and I don't care enough to try to have it make sense. They understand this about me and only once in a while do they attempt to explain the game. I will abbreviate this ongoing and endless discussion by just writing cards, cards, cards. You will get the idea.

Me: Silence. My super power is to be able to tune out all but the most vociferous arguments or screech of pain.

Boys: Cards, cards, cards.

A boy: How many miles to where we are going?

Me: I don't know, I'll see if I can watch the odo...

Boys: Cards, cards, cards.

A boy: Do you know what I've never liked about Popeyes? That they don't serve spinich.

Me: Silence. Because, come on, what does one say to that?

Boys: Cards, cards, cards.

We arrive at the game store. The boys head straight to the cards to stare and plan and discuss the best cards to have and how much they should be worth. I wander around the store looking at the boxed games. So many of them look so cool and so fun, I could seriously spend far too much money here. (As an added plus, in the next room you can actually play any of the games to try them out.) On my third time around the store, though, a clerk asks if I need any help. I point to the boys and say that I'm with them. He says, "Ah," and goes back to what he is doing. D. finally decides what he is going to buy and TM decides he doesn't want anything. D. pays, I buy the birthday gift I needed, and I start to head out the door. The clerk points to something and both boys' head swivel, they say, "COOL!" in unison and I wander around a little bit more. The clerk did apologize and we both laugh about how close I came to actually leaving.

Finally, I drag the boys out of the store and we head to the Vietnamese market a couple of blocks south. The few blocks consist of more talk about cards, this time the cards D. got in the packs that he bought.

Now, one reason I love the Vietnamese market is that the things I buy don't cost that much so when a child says, "Oooh! Seaweed! Can we get some?" I can say yes. We bought seaweed snacks, pandan cakes, dried pineapple, wasabi peas, a lot of instant pho, prawn crackers, banh xeo mix and the herbs that go along with the banh xeo.

We get in the car and head home. This time the boys' discussions are punctuated by the crunching of seaweed snacks by one and prawn crackers by the other.

Boys: Cards, cards, cards

A boy: Can I have one of those? said to his brother.

Boys: Cards, cards, cards

A boy: Mommy, do you know what dark matter is?

Me: I have no idea what dark matter is.

Boys: You don't know what dark matter is?!?!?

Boys: Cards, cards, cards

Boys: (Their heads swiveling in the same direction at the same time) FLASH!

Boys: Cards, cards, cards

A boy: Can I have one of those?

Boys: Cards, cards, cards

All the way home... which it turns out is about 5 miles. I did answer their question, but I'm not sure they were interested by the time I had an answer.

They were good, if comical company, but by the end, I often feel the need to spend some time in a sensory deprivation tank. You know, where it is absolutely silent and no one is talking about trading cards.

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