Lessons

Yesterday after I picked up my 3 1/2 year old from pre-school, we went to Arby's. With a flash of the debit card, we whisked away with our food. While waiting at a red light, I thought about all the great things I had heard lately about the holiday lights display at Lindenwood Park. I pulled over and ate my cheddar roast beef sandwich quickly so I could enjoy it in all its hot, cheesy goodness. I set up McKenna with her food and milk, and we headed for the other side of town, dodging the snow drifts not yet obliterated by the snow plows' blades and skidding sideways to stop at the rush-hour filled intersections. She and I chatted about the lights and what we would may be see all the while.

Once we arrived, I realized the attraction cost $5, a fact no-one mentioned in the raving reviews. Since, as usual, I did not have cash nor checks on hand, I turned the Jeep around and faced the daunting task of explaining to McKenna why we could not drive up to the lights taunting us from just around the bend of the road.

Our conversation:

Me, in very apologetic tones: "Honey, Mommy didn't bring any money, so we can drive in to the park to see the lights. I'm sorry. We have to go home now, but maybe we can come back tomorrow. What do you think?"

McKenna, in a wise and weary voice: "Well, I think you should have a purse, and I think you should put some money in it."

So much for the ease and convenience of the plastic.