David clutched the Batman action-figure box and began sniffling.
Nancy stopped pushing the shopping cart and counted to ten. “Don’t you dare make a scene. Your birthday’s next week, so no toys today.”
David’s breath hitched a couple times, but a tear trickled down his cheek.
One...two...three.... Nancy started counting again, but her mind was filled with the image of her yanking David off the floor by the back of his pants and hauling him that way out of the store. “If I have to drag you out of here, all your presents are going to Goodwill and your only gift will be a certificate from the Arbor Day Foundation for the purchase of a tree in your name.”
Holding out the Batman figure to her, David made his best puppy-dog eyes.
Nancy snatched it away. “So help me, I will then find that tree and burn it to the ground.” She inspected the packaging; Batman had olive-green armor with yellow stripes. “Jungle Batman. You already have this one.”
David stepped beside her and tapped the word above Jungle, his voice, barely a whisper. “Tactical Jungle Batman. See, special knife.”
“Really, another ten dollars and it just has a knife.”
“Tactical knife.”
Nancy tossed the box on a shelf. “I swear, David, if you weren’t seventeen, I’d put you up for adoption. Let’s go.”
David smiled. “Love you, too, Mom.”
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