A few years back my husband and I braved the crowds at our nearest Costco with our two youngest children. We weaved in and out of the many isles, getting things we didn't necessarily need and rushing to find the one item we came for. We meandered through the long isle of books, reading each title and getting a few to read.
As like every trip to Costco, we ended up with over one hundred dollars more in merchandise. But we got the cheese we came for, so we were good.
We paid for our goods then stood in the line of people shuffling out of the building. My son (he was three at the time) had his arms around his dad's neck while my husband held him tight. In front of us walked a group of teen girls, who gabbed with each other on their way out.
The instant my son caught sight of the huge cranes (my husband had pointed them out once and explained they used them to hook and carry things) they used to build the department store just south of the Costco, my son cried out, "Look Dad, hookers!"
Yep. We couldn't help but laugh and look apologetically to the few girls who'd turned their heads with a disapproving glare.
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