You go, Grandma!

Shopping at Target this morning, I heard a woman's voice in the next aisle.
"Here's Popsicles. How about Popsicles?"
And a small voice replied, "No, we don't want that."

I perused my aisle of snack bars.
"What about Fudgesicles? Do you like those?"
"No, we don't like those."
"Let's see what else is here..."

And I caught myself whispering aloud, "You go, Grandma."

I don't know what made me think it was a grandmother and her grandchildren out of my sight in the next aisle. Could have been her kind voice. Probably her never-ending patience.
A day with the grandkids, and here's Grandma just trying to find a special treat to share.

I remembered shopping with my own grandmother some 35 years ago. She never asked me what kind of treat I wanted. She told me what treat I'd get, if I got one at all. And it was always Bit-O-Honey which I hated because the pieces were too big for my small mouth so I couldn't close my lips, and it always made me drool. But it was that or nothing. So I drooled down my chin onto my shirt. Every time.
I can still feel it. (I'm wiping my chin now just thinking of it.)

Back to Target...

"Ice cream sandwich? These are good."
"I don't like those."

I couldn't help myself. After I picked out my snack bars, I walked around the corner.
She was standing in the open door of the freezer case with a box in each hand.
"How about these? Or these?"

As I passed, I leaned in close and whispered, "I wish you were my grandma."
She chuckled.
But as I walked away, there was a moment of quiet. And she called after me, "Thank you."

You go, Grandma.