Mr. Roboto!

Summer just called in to tell me of a funny story that happened to her on the way to pick up a Smashed Potato for Mommy Dearest at the mall (that was alllllll she wanted for lunch).

A little boy, about five started wailing: "I want to go in that store, Mommy, THAT store!"

"Honey, which one?" Mommy was trying to understand.

"THAT ONE!" he screeched.

"Um - uh," she stammered. Summer could tell she was trying to figure out what store was garnering such an outburst.

"THAT ONE! TAL -BOTS!" he screamed.

"That's a woman's clothing store. You don't want to go in there." The mom, thinking the crisis was adverted, tried to walk away.

"No - MOMMY! I want to go in there - I want to get a ROBOT at TAL-BOTS!"

"They don't sell robots there, honey. They sell clothes." Summer was trying not to laugh - and failing.

"Yes they DO! There are girl robots in the window RIGHT THERE!" He pointed a tiny little finger towards the mannequins.

Ever wonder if we were smarter at five than we are right now?

Even though I am older now and am able to do miraculous things like type with my fingers on the right keys - I still would like to remember what it was like to chase down the end of a rainbow - and still believing that the pot of gold was just behind the neighbor's house down the block...