For the Love of a Sock Monkey

Wednesday  Nash, Harley, and I set out to go grocery shopping. In the car, on this mundane outing, something caught Nash's eye-an interior design store.  The windows of this upscale boutique were decorated in what I can only describe as Richie Rich's dream bedroom, complete with a giant sock monkey flying an airplane.  Cue melt-down!  Nash begged and cried, weeped and wailed to go into this store and see the sock monkeys. I unsuccessfully fought this battle by explaining that it was not a toy store.  He won the war so with Harley strapped into her backpack, we entered.

The four ladies behind the counter looked at me as if to say just what I felt, "What on earth are you doing in this shop with those two hooligans?"  Porcelain and crystal surrounded us on all sides. I was just about ready to have a panic attack when Nash said, "Okay, mom I'm done. I've seen the sock monkeys. Let's go to the store and get a donut."  Whew!  We made it out alive. Not so fast,  just as we were turning to leave, Nash in front of me, and Harley still strapped on, I heard a crash followed by my baby clapping and screaming with excitement in the backpack.   I turned around and there on the floor was what was left of what might have once been a vase that Harley had pulled off of a shelf.

Thought, number one:  "Can I make it to the door without the ladies catching me? No, Nash is too slow. He would surely get busted. But then again this is all his fault."  Thought, number two: Actually I didn't have anymore thoughts because it was at this moment that I heard four sets of Jimmy Choo stilettos pounding their way across the marble floor towards me.  It was also at this moment that I found the base of this vase still somewhat in tact at my feet. I turned the base over and saw the damage-$259. Nice, there goes the grocery trip. I guess we can have ketchup packs from McDonald's warmed up to pass for tomato soup for dinner.  Then there they were, what I assumed were the four snobbiest women in America leaning over me in my humiliation as I attempted to pick up shards of porcelain.  But, something amazing happened.  The oldest of the women touched my arm and said, "Don't worry about it honey.  I probably shouldn't have placed that vase so close to the edge. You just go on and have a good day."  I was astonished.  Who does something that nice, especially in D.C.-the anti-child city?  I had to do something. I offered to pay and she still insisted no. What could I do?  I spent $6 and bought a little green sock monkey. Well, it seemed like a great idea at the time but looking back it was probably just insulting.  

Innocent?  I don't think so! She bit the arm off the sock monkey five minutes after we bought it!