Craft Glue & Candy

As Christmas approaches, I decide to make a gift for one of my sisters out of magnets, glass beads, and a whole lot of craft glue.  Of course, I possess none of these things, so my mother and I take a trip to a local retail store.  Though each store is a copy of every other one in the chain, my mother walks around like she has just discovered a new planet.  We are there in the evening so the crowds are manageable, and my mother moseys through the aisles with her hands in her coat pockets.  She smiles as we stroll by vacuum cleaners, plastic hangers, and rubber totes.  I prod her to hurry up, but she scowls at me.

“I want to look,” she insists.  “I haven’t seen these before.”

I sigh, and we continue ambling through the “home” section, occasionally picking up something from my list or rooting through inexpensive wall hangings.  Finally, we wind up in the movie and music section.  My mother gives this section a cursory glance but quickly becomes fixated on the two giant bins that are filled with movie candy in the middle of the aisle .  

“Look!” she grins, gesturing toward the over-sized boxes of M&M’s, Whoppers, and Mike & Ikes.  She points to one of the boxes by placing her finger a few centimeters from it.  She doesn’t touch it, but her finger hovers, ready to pounce given the invitation.  

“Do you want one?” she asks.  Her eyes open wide and her hand remains poised to snatch up the candy.  I know that her question is a round-about way of asking if she can have some, and I think over the situation.  Cost is not an issue (they are on sale), but the freezer is already full of candy my father recently uncovered from an old “secret stash” under the bed.   

In the few seconds I hesitate, my mother pulls her hand away.

“No,” she whispers, returning her hand to her coat pocket, “it’s too much.”

“That’s okay, Mom.  We have enough for one box.  Why don’t you pick one out.”

She sets her fingers on a box of Whoppers, then moves it away before finally picking it up.  She holds the box with two hands and turns to me with out smiling.  

“You, have some, too,” she asserts, now pointing one of her fingers at me.

“Mom, we can share,” I reply.  “We just need one.”

She frowns.  “You need one.”

“No, Mom, it’s oaky.  I’ve got these other things.”  I motion to the craft supplies in my arms, and some of the suspicion leaves her eyes.  

“O-kay,” she says slowly while tightening her grip on the candy.

We drift back to the front of the store, passing everyday items and nondescript supplies.  When we return to the house, my mother can’t stop smiling as she tries to tell my father about the trip to the store.  She pulls out every bottle of glue and each craft magnet as she attempts to explain how exciting the errand was.