The Hardware Store

When I was young a trip to the hardware store was an exciting adventure. I would arrive and be turned loose, with the understanding that I shouldn't touch anything, or at least not be caught touching anything. I generally avoided adults, who looked at me suspiciously. (It was clear the hardware store was only for men with the HWS gene, and I was only permitted because my Dad carried the gene.) I enjoyed treading the wooden floors, which creaked reassuringly under foot.

These days a trip to the hardware store is a trip to Lowe's or, if I'm desperate, Home Depot. This is much closer in feel to a trip to Sam's Club. Now you wouldn't be surprised to see a large-screen TV in the hardware store. After all, it sells fridges with TVs built in.

Sam still appears to enjoy it just as much as I did when I was young. And he's gotten pretty good about accompanying me to find whatever I'm looking for, after which I usually let him wander a little and explore. This time he explored the Lawn & Garden Gazebo section (again, not something we had growing up), which was a month ago the Snow Globe and Electronically Animated Religion-Neutral Christmas Lawn Creature section.

While there we played hide & seek, a game which he gets the greatest delight in losing, so long as it's not right away. Saturday also had a trip to the sporting goods store. in my day I think this was called "Sears." Now it has huge escalators, colorful kayaks and plastic statues of buff young people in underwear. And Sam loves it as well, for the escalators, for the bouncy balls when he remembers they're there, and for the vast expanse of store.

Not much else this weekend. A trip to the library where Sam played musical instruments (again, the library in my day...), and to the Play Museum, where he got to see the new Mr. Potato Head exhibit. I had wondered how they would do that--after all, Mr. PH is really just the passive recipient of attention--he doesn't do anything. But they had him snorkeling, performing archaeology, exploring outer space, and at the very front of the exhibit, he appeared to be a Polynesian god (which is, btw, spudolotry). To Sam, though, the topic is irrelevant--the room is really a container for slides and toys and activities, and the theme's largely irrelevant. So--he had a good time.

Next week, for a change, maybe I'll take him outside. He hasn't seen that except in passing for quite some time.

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One more thing which is only going to be amusing to a naive first-time parent such as myself: Susan was chatting with me, in Sam's presence, about a woman she met. In doing so she said she didn't know this woman from Adam.

Sam interjected, "Who's Adam?"

Okay, yes, we've read him his picture Bible over and over, and I guess that part didn't stick. It was the perfection of the question, on the heels of Susan's remark, which I loved.