3.4 (Thursday, Dec. 9, 1999)
“That’s incredible. You could really cause some pain with a knife like that.” Tyler glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
A small shiver shot up my spine, but I shook it off. My hand brushed against a basket on the counter, and I looked down to find it full of lens-less glasses with light bulbs on the outside of the earpieces. When I opened the glasses, the bulbs lit up.
I put them on and shone the lights at Tyler’s head. With my hands in the air, I said, “Look, Mom, no hands!”
Tyler turned, and we both laughed. The counter attendant rushed toward us and said, “Those aren’t toys.” I laughed harder. Tyler stifled his laughter but whisked the glasses off my face, threw them back in the basket, and led the way to the door. Outside, we leaned against the building to laugh. Passersby peered at us as though we were strange creatures, which made me laugh harder. The cool concrete of the wall pressed through my jacket sleeve, and I took deep breaths of the crisp winter air to try to ease my giggles.
“Oh, god,” I breathed out with a sigh. “Ok, let’s go over there.” I pointed to a Bath & Body Works across Fifth Avenue.
Tyler raised his eyebrows at me.
“What? We went in a guy store. Now we get to go in a girl store,” I retorted.
Lori
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