May 2018 Prompt: I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.
May 2018 Word: Ghastly
I wait in the car for Mom outside of the Dollarama. It's been a long wait. She likes to take her time when she shops. And I like to people watch, so we usually make a good team.
But today, it's hot and I'm sick of waiting. I decide to go in and see if she is almost done.
As I enter the store I am greeted with a hollered hello by the lady at the register and the smell of new things still in the package from China.
Suddenly, I have a mental image of poor Asian children in a sweat shop. I search for Mom, working my way down the aisles. I hear a mother saying "Ok, that's it.
Just one toy and that's all you get!", a crying, whining toddler and someone saying, "Get the green ones! Yes!", the scuffling of feet, the jangling of the front door.
It's all very noisy in the quiet building. I smell something ghastly down the candy aisle, worse then my brother Jared ever thought of smelling. "Marco", I call, pausing to listen for Mom.
I decide to take a detour down the art aisle before finishing my search, since it's my favorite aisle.
I walk down, looking longingly at all the bottles of brightly colored paints, pad of smooth drawing paper and my favorite of all, a set of 300 crayons.
After drooling over crayons and wiping my chin, I move on, turning the corner to the next aisle and a boy pushes past me, almost knocking me over.
I open my mouth to tell him what his mama APPARENTLY never had but my retainer falls out onto the ground.
I hurriedly grab it and stuff it back in my mouth and angrily look around to find the culprit but all I see is the destruction of the art aisle.
It looks as if the contents of an entire shelf has been knocked onto the ground and scattered around. Now I am very angry.
Just look at all of those broken crayons! I reach the front counter in time to see him trying to sneak on out of the store.
I shout at him, "Hey! Stop!" When he sees me, he tries to run, so I shout "Thief!" and a beefy looking man on his way in grabs the youngster before he can go two more steps.
"Hold it right there, young man", he says, catching his arm. "Now what did you steal? Hand it over."
"Nothin', Sir. I didn't steal nothin'. Honest!" He has the bluest eyes I ever saw and he glares at me fiercely.
By now, the lady who greeted me at the register is coming over and the beefy looking man is asking me "What did he take, missy?
" Although he hadn't actually stole anything, I don't feel guilty for making sure he gets what he deserves. "The crayons!" I say.
"Alright, hand them over", the man tells the boy.
"I don't have them!" The boys says, his innocent eyes blinking. Now the Dollarama cashier is there, asking "What's all the fuss?" and everyone is looking at me.
I point my finger at the boy and say "He took all the crayons and..." But he cut in before I could finish.
"Look, I don't have the time or the crayons to explain this. I don't know what she is talking about!"
They look at me again. "Look in the crayon aisle!" I shout. Then the race to the art aisle. Tripping and stepping on each others feet and over runaway toddlers.
Past the clearance bin, bumping into the balloon bin, setting them free. WEEEEEE!!! Down the very cluttered aisle of mutilated crayons. The cashier gasps and I feel the urge to cry.
Thinking of all those broken crayons makes me think of the uncolored pictures and sad grandmothers with no pictures to hang on their refrigerators.
"You, young man, are in hot water!" says the beefy man.
And I know, justice will be served.