Little Yellow Candies are Not Marbles
I was riding the RTA the other day, listening to a wonderful little boy talk to his mom.
"Mom, what color is that again?"
"Purple."
"Oh, that's right! Purple!"
"Do you want a chewy Lemonhead?"
"Chewy Lemonhead! I love you Mommy!"
It was cute.
The Rapid reached my stop, and as I was about to get off, I noticed a chewy Lemonhead rolling down the aisle. A man, nice enough but maybe crazy, jumped out of his seat to grab it and return it to the little boy.
I stepped off the Rapid full of questions. Did that guy know it was candy? Will the little boy eat the candy before his mom stops him? How many diseases can one Lemonhead pick up on its journey across a public transit floor? Where can I get some Lemonheads on my way to class?
"Mom, what color is that again?"
"Purple."
"Oh, that's right! Purple!"
"Do you want a chewy Lemonhead?"
"Chewy Lemonhead! I love you Mommy!"
It was cute.
The Rapid reached my stop, and as I was about to get off, I noticed a chewy Lemonhead rolling down the aisle. A man, nice enough but maybe crazy, jumped out of his seat to grab it and return it to the little boy.
I stepped off the Rapid full of questions. Did that guy know it was candy? Will the little boy eat the candy before his mom stops him? How many diseases can one Lemonhead pick up on its journey across a public transit floor? Where can I get some Lemonheads on my way to class?
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