When I was little, my sisters and I shared a red, plastic, small, toy cash register. We played “store” all the time. The drawer opened and we put plastic play coins in there.
Back in 1968-1974 my father was on the Washington State Parole Board. At that time, there was also a woman on the board. (pretty amazing when you think about women in business during that era). When we visited my father’s office near the state capital, we would always go say hello to Miss Helen. She collected owls. A LOT of owls. Compared to my father’s very proper, organized, man’s, boring brown and black office……….her’s was amazing. It was overrun with owls. Funny how I still remember that. It was wild. Sort of felt like all the owls were looking at me. Creepy but in a I can’t stop looking, way. Weird how I still remember?
One Saturday, we were on our way somewhere and my father had to stop by her home and drop off some papers. She had us come in. She said we could go into the family room. My mother was nervous, you could actually feel her tense up. Miss Helen and her husband, did not have any children at home and they collected rare and precious antiques. My mother told us not to touch. Miss Helen said, “of course they can touch”. 🙂
In a flash of an eye, we spotted it and never saw another thing, the entire time we were there. A REAL cash register. It was gilded in gold (we of course assumed it was real gold) and when the drawer came out, there was REAL money in there. Miss Helen said sure we could play with it. She showed us how it worked. We each took turns over and over and over.
In the late 80’s, Mr. Right and I were sitting in our living room, listening to our boys play “store”. We kept hearing them making a beeping sound. We tiptoed to their play room and looked in. They had turned over a cardboard box and drew a screen on it. Then they were passing the grocery items over the area and making it “beep” to capture the price.
The times they were a changin’.
I have a friend who is one of the good guys in life. You know the type, responsible, smarty pants, great Dad, great husband, dog lover, adventuresome, great sense of humor, can pull off a jaunty hat and is a lover of Pacific NW sports….? I know he is one of the good guys in life because he is a man who stops and buys lemonade from road side stands. You gotta love a man who buys lemonade from kids on the side of the road. Something tells me, they receive a nice tip as well.
Last week, May 2014, he pulled over. He walked up and placed his order. The little girl asked, “can I get a name for that”? He said, John. Once his drink order was ready for pick up, she called out “JOHN”! Sounds like a little Starbucks Batista in the making.
The times they are a changin’.
(yes, I did indeed ask permission to share his name and his story.)
I am still smiling. I bet he is, too. Thanks J-o-h-n! Oh and Happy May Birthday. I hope your day is as happy as you made Lemonade Barista girl!