M and I were at the grocery store yesterday in the coffee aisle. He was his usual exuberant self, touching things, asking, “What’s this?” about every other item on the shelves. Running far ahead of me until he noticed I stopped following to wait for him to accompany me down a different aisle.
So we were in the coffee aisle, and M sees something brightly colored that looks like it might be good for pulling. It was one of the levers to dispense some brand of coffee beans or another. And before I could say, “Don’t,” he had pulled it and a small spurt of beans shot out at him and scattered to the floor.
“Oh no!” he said, jumping back. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry.”
It was super adorable.
There weren’t all that many beans when it came down to it, and even the store’s employee standing nearby laughed and told us how that was just the cutest thing ever.
We picked up the beans, with M apologizing at the same time as he was eying the ten or so other bean-dispensing levers in front of him.
We made our way out of the coffee aisle with only the one lever pulled and the few beans all cleaned up.
And this is the kind of thing I should really write down more often. Moments like that one happen so often that they tend to blend into the background of the day unless I make a point to tell someone or find a minute to write it.