A Case of Intentional Failure

The man and his young son looked like Pete and Repeat in their matching and spotlessly clean jerseys. I surmised that they were on their way to the little league ball park and the father was also the coach.

The boy was holding a list while his dad pushed the cart. I passed them a few times in my pass around the big box store and each time I noticed something unusual about their shopping efforts—like their exchange in the bread aisle.

“Wheat Bread,” the boy read off the list.
His dad picked up a loaf of white bread. “Check.”

I heard a similar conversation in the fruit and vegetable aisle. When the boy said lettuce the dad cheerfully added a bag of spinach leaves to the growing stash in their buggy and when the child said grapefruit, the dad donated oranges to the cause. Curious as I was, I was trying to resist the urge to get involved. I may have made it, too, had I not seen their routine in the canned goods, but the third time was the charm.

“Brown rice,” the boy read.
“Check,” his father said, reaching for a bag of white rice and tossing it in the cart. “Is that it?”

“Yes, sir—”
“Good,” the dad said. “We need to hurry and drop this by the house for your mama or we’re gonna be late for warm-up.”

As they passed, the dad gave me a friendly smile and my resolve cracked. “Excuse me,” I said, “It’s none of my business, but I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t exactly going by that list…” When I hesitated the man put his arm around his boy and grinned, “Son, do you think we can trust her?” The child nodded seriously.

“Well,” his daddy said. “We’ve got us a secret plan. We figure if we mess this up bad enough we won’t have to do it again.”

~Shellie