Earlier this evening, I was deciding between tomato soup and New England clam chowder when I heard a tiny voice say, "Daddy? Daddy? I love you!"
I looked to my right. She was sitting in the shopping cart, legs kicking back and forth. She had long, straight blond hair falling onto the collar of her jean jacket. Her pie-shaped face tilting upward, smiling at her father who was glancing down at his watch. She was missing a tooth up top, in front.
"Daddy?" She smiled, her head falling sideways onto her left shoulder. She narrowed her eyes then slowly leaned forward and said more urgently, "Daddy?"
He pushed the cart forward, stopped, turned to his right and picked up a loaf of bread.
She looked down and began tapping at the handle of the shopping cart as if she were playing the piano. She said to herself, rocking her head from side to side, "I just wanted to say I love you."
He tossed the bread into the cart, "Shhhh. That's enough."
I watched as he pushed her away. Concentrating, head down, she continued to tap her chubby fingers on the handle of the cart. Her legs still swinging back and forth as they disappeared into the next aisle.