In a flash, the cherry tomatoes were rolling across the concrete floor like greased bearings -- E had been unloading the shopping cart when, in a moment of slightly careless abandon, the container of tomatoes crashed into the side of the buggy as he was lifting them out, then crashed to the floor.
"It was an accident!" he said, looking up at me.
"Well, clean up the accident, then."
He began picking up the tomatoes and hustling them to a garbage can. Behind us, a mother and her daughter, probably around four, stood watching. When E returned for another load, the little girl walked over and began picking up tomatoes with him.
When we returned home, K and L were in the midst of figuring out a new board game. Well, not quite a board game -- there's no board to speak of. Still, a game. An exceedingly complicated game. With multiple decks of cards. And two different sets of tokens. And so many rules to remember that it seemed impossible that a human could keep that many exceptions in her mind at once.
Of course, I started making silly comments.
L, very much wanting to play, naturally got a little irritated with my silliness.
E, content to entertain himself, worked with Legos as all this went on.
And K, determined to make it through all the instructions -- a multi-page book, mind you, not just a few short paragraphs on the underside of the box -- kept explaining the game to us.
"We have fifteen minutes before it's E's bedtime," K said. "We have a little time to play." Between all the complicated rules and steps, everyone got a single turn in those fifteen minutes.
