A Pretzel and a Dollar

The other day we went to the wholesale club BJ's.

I was busy with Papa HOchie and Grandma at the Verizon counter, getting new phones when H1 and BH suddenly appeared.

BH was prattling off on something and H1 looked suspect.

Not quite understanding what he was saying, H1 asked him to tell me what he wanted.

"Pretzel. Want pretzel."

So, that was fine. I told him to go get one but there he was, still rambling on about something.

"Need dollar."

What.

Apparently, he was throwing a fit with his Mommy and demanded a pretzel. When he told that there was no dollar to be had, he asked for me.

"Where Boobey."

What.

He associates me with money and wanted to find me because he needed a dollar and came around to shake me down for one.

...

It's not right.