"Mom, I don't ever need to go to Staples ever again."Daphne did not exactly say this to me, but our few brief visits told me as much. Something about this place gets her all good and fussed up! (Click on the image for a close up on her distress!)
Have her massage, yoga and latte excursions spoiled her this much already? Maybe it is the odor from the ink cartridges, or the hum from the copy center, or the cavernous 30' ceilings. Or after her earthquake experience, maybe she senses it is just a bad idea to be on the retail ground floor of our urban condo complex in case the next big one hits.
I can understand. She does not yet know the thrills of the techno-gadgets, of picking out a new notebook, or the simple satisfaction of conveniently buying printer paper, batteries and stamps right downstairs!
I hope it is not an early aversion to working. After all, I'm banking on her as an excellent retirement plan. But if she's as clever as I'd like to think she is, it may all be her ploy to get me out of there quickly under threat of meltdown, and to coerce those waiting in line at the register to let us jump to the front! Crafty, isn't she?
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