A Monster Got Me!

Repeat­ed­ly, even.

At Sam’s Club.

Okay, he was maybe 4 years old, and a seri­ous cutie. Wear­ing a Marine Corps t‑shirt, no less. First, he ran up to a cou­ple in front of me and “RAWR­Rd,” (not actu­al­ly touch­ing any­one). The man laughed but had to stop and try to look huffy when his wife got all pis­sy. I smiled at the lit­tle one and laughed, and smiled at his parents.

His father came over and informed me that his son had been watch­ing “mon­ster” car­toons. He did­n’t speak a lot of Eng­lish, but we were able to com­mu­ni­cate just fine.

Mon­ster Boy fig­ured that I was safe, so he “attacked” me a half-dozen times before I got to the “check your receipt” lady. I sup­pose my “Oh Noes!” response was good enough because he kept com­ing back. I did get a tick­le in, which made him squeal with glee.

I did get a lit­tle wor­ried when he tried to fol­low me out to the park­ing lot (lots of traf­fic!) but his father was on the ball.

I try to avoid Sam’s Club/Walmart/etc., but they do have the cheap­est pre­scrip­tions in town, so we end up there once a month. 

That was the nicest vis­it I’ve ever had.