You don't always get what you want......

but you might need it .....sometime.

Tonight after dinner, the kids and I walked next door to Co-op Mart. I know what you are thinking. "Wow! A co-op right next door, how lucky is that?!" I know that you are thinking it because that's what I was thinking/hoping beyond hope for. But, no. Co-op Mart, the Reality, is a cross between Dollar Tree and Grocery Outlet. But 80 times busier. Skinnier aisles.  TV's hang from the ceiling about every 5 aisles, blaring (really, BLARING) advertising jingles. And everything is either in Vietnamese or Korean.

So there we were. On the search for glue for Asher's school project. Due tomorrow. Requiring glue. Or tape. Or at least something sticky.

After walking the aisles numerous times, we went to the checker.

Me: "Do you have glue?"

Her: leans forward, swanky haircut inclined in a listening position, eyebrows poised in the "Hm?" position.

Me: "Glue?", pantomiming spreading motions on my palm with one hand and then sticking them together with exaggerated expressions of great satisfaction when, in fact, I cannot get my hands to part.

Her: one finger up, puts out the closed sign at her register and departs.

Me: Smiles sheepishly, lifting one shoulder at the Korean woman next to me who huffs in disgust, grabs her basket and moves off in search of another checker.

Her: returns with a small slip of paper, which she thrusts at me. Pulls the pen out from behind her ear and inspects fingernails.

Me: writes g-l-u-e on the paper and hands it back with a quizzical wrinkle in the middle of my forehead.

Her: Intently studying. Holds out one hand. Chases off the person who is trying to get in line despite the closed sign. "You. Wait."

Elia: "Where is she going?"

Me: (confidently) "She's going to get help."

Her: Walks to the next checker, holds out the paper. Shake of head. Proceeds to the next checker and, in her increasing desperation, we see her begin to accost the customers as well with my slip of paper. She disappears into the crowd.

Me: Turn to kids, smiling feebly.

Her: Returns. Chases off customer by defiantly pointing out the close sign. Says something to me in Vietnamese.

Me: Shrugs with an "sorry, I'm an idiot" look.

Her: Sighs audibly, holds out one hand. "You. Wait."

Me: Watch her head toward the Customer Service desk. Smile feebly at the children. "Maybe yogurt?"

Asher: Straightens up in excitement. "Do you think that will work?"

Me: "No."

(All sink into a slouch until Checker enters station. Then stand straight with expectant smiles on our faces.)

Her: Says something in Vietnamese.

Us: Expectant smiles fade to confusion. Out of our periphery, a Manager appears.

Manager: "How I help, Madame." (in very good English)

Me: "Do you have glue?"

Him: blank look.

Me: "Glue?" I grab a Frequent Shopper application from the rack and make a big show of folding the paper, spreading my glue, sticking the two sides together. Once they are clearly stuck, I do it again. "Glue", I say proudly.

Him: "Ahhh." Goes briskly off to the customer service desk.

Me: Smile apologetically at the Checker.

Her: Smiles in a "whatever" way and inspects fingernails.

Manager: Returns with Frequent Shopper brochure, which he efficiently hands me, pointing out a few of the finer details. Presses the brochure into my hands, "OK?" he says.

Me: "Da, Ok", tucking the brochure under my arm.

Checker: rolls her eyes in disgust and gives me an inquiring look.

Me: waving my hand, "Ok, ok" I say, waving my hand in the air.

In the elevator back at our complex, I burst into laughter.

Asher and Elia: "What's so funny?"

I have just realized that the folded brochure is the exact size of my well glued Frequent Shopper application. And, it is written entirely in Vietnamese.