“I just want to go to Hobby Lobby. It’ll just take like five seconds.”
I fixed my son with the steely dad glare of truth. I’d heard the “it’ll just take like five seconds” line before, but from his older brother.
“Da-ad,” he said. “It’s for Mom!”
It was. We were heading out to shop for her birthday present. The problem was that we had limited time, and a trip Hobby Lobby could easily eat up all that time.
“Okay. Get in the car. We have to go fast.”
We hightailed it to Hobby Lobby, then jogged to the bead section, where he “just wanted to get a few beads.”
The bead section, it turned out, was two aisles, filled with every kind of bead you can imagine.
I stared at it, more than a little stunned. Who was buying all these beads?
“Okay,” he said. “Now I’m going to pick out just the right ones.”
“What are you doing, again?” I asked.
“I’m making her a necklace, and I have to pick out just the right beads.” He paused, his eyes going up and down the display of beads. “Actually, this could take some time.”