So now the kids see some commercials.
So last night we're in Target shopping for our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes. And the kids are having fun thinking, selecting, comparing, and fitting different combos of items, Tetris-style, into the boxes.
Then we were finishing those up and Hank goes, "Oh, Mom, can we get just one thing for me?" I gave him a wary, mother look, with my eyebrows slightly raised and a "go on" face. You parents are familiar with this face.
He goes, "Can we get Febreze Tranquility? Because I've been having a hard time going to sleep. And if we can get it, I'd like the 'quiet jasmine' one."
So this is some kind of room freshener/oil diffuser that touts its aromatherapeutic properties on some commercial that I haven't even seen. And it's not the kind of thing that I'd ever even be aware of, much less buy. Just not a part of my world.
But y'all. The way he said it! So sweetly and earnestly somehow, with an air of, "Well here's a product that will solve a problem, we should give it a try." And he enunciated each word so carefully. I had the debunking and dismissal right on the tip of my tongue. I've issued similar dismissals a thousand times in my parenting career.
So what I said was, "Okay, I think that would be down that aisle." And we went and he knelt down and picked out the 'quiet jasmine' scent and we bought it.
I think I knew that I could say, "Buddy, that stuff doesn't work like that, we don't need it," or similar, and he would accept it instantly. But I thought he would feel a bit foolish to have asked for it so credulously? I don't know. Now we own some quiet jasmine. It does not smell actually bad.
Tonight Laura was away at a sleepover, and after dinner out, Hank and I wrapped up on the couch and watched Monsters University. Then, at bedtime, he asked me to help him activate the little fragrance thingie, which I did. As he carried it upstairs, he goes, "I feel sleepier already."