One day last week, in a fit of productivity brought on by knowing I had to come back to work Monday, Ainsley and I went to the closest laundromat to wash comforters. No, it's not a fun way to spend one of our last days of summer break. But it's housework, and I am a little OCD about that stuff, so there we were.
Right next door was a Subway. We don't eat there much because it's not one of Ainsley's favorites, and sadly, her tastes dictate where we go when we need to grab a quick bite. We don't complain; she chooses Chipotle over McDonald's.
This time Ainsley agreed to get a sub to munch while we watched our cold-weather bedding spin in the 50 pound washer. She devoured her little ham and cheese mini-sub, and apparently the experience stuck with her.
"Mommy, how come we never eat at Subway?" she asked me days later.
"Well, until the other day, you never seemed to like it much. You wouldn't eat your sandwich."
"But I really like it now."
"Well, that's good to know. Next time we want to stop somewhere for lunch, maybe we'll try it again."
"Sweet. I hear they have footlongs. I wonder what a footlong sandwich tastes like."
I love the hold advertising has on children.
"Yes, Ainsley, they do. But a footlong is just a bigger version of the same sandwich you ate the other day. It doesn't taste any different. It's just...more."
She thought about that for a minute.
"Well, I still want to try it. 'Cause sometimes I have an appetite for a lot of sandwich."
Don't we all?