One Ball

At Target today Annalee was less interested in sitting in Dad's shopping cart, and being wheeled beside the shorts and other summer clothing, than she was in some two-foot diameter inflatable balls sitting in a wire cage a few aisles over. "No," she said, eight or ten times. "We'll get you a ball, honey," I said, "but first we're going to get you some shorts." This was not the correct thing to say, it turns out. I was able, with significant undercover wheedling and cajoling, to gain her trust again when I let her walk beside the cart and occasionally help me push it. We bought six or eight pairs of shorts, a dress, some short overalls, and a couple of shirts. And then, of course, one ball.