I’m striding through the grocery store, young Mr. Ben in the shopping cart seat. Saw something which might be good for dinner. “That’s something to think about,” I said aloud.
“That’s something to think about,” echoed Ben, in the way he sometimes does these days.
“Are you thinking?” I asked him.
“NO!” he responded, a look of glee upon his face. Then, after a pause, “I’m Benji!”
Advertisement
