C jr loves the corner store.

It’s an adventure to take her little tin of random coins, head downstairs, out the door and traverse the half-block to the store that is, in fact, on the corner.

It’s full of Mexican foods, and also some Kraft macaroni and cheese. There are a few bins with a few different kinds of produce that changes daily. Apparently, the store owners often stash different produce behind the counter, but I’m too shy to ask.

What kinda fruit ya got back there? is how it would come out, I’m sure. And then I’m just the slightly wild-eyed lady who pops in every now and then when she’s out of milk and desperate.

So C jr takes her coins and has to decide what form of sugar to buy. Often, she’ll get a gigantic, sugared bun, which she inhales. She’s been trying some Mexican candies, too, and has almost developed a taste for tamarind.

What I love about her is that she’ll try anything. ANYTHING. Bugs. Guts. Fish eye. Whatever. And if she doesn’t like it, no big deal…but that’s it. Not GROSS, or EW or YUCK. Just, I don’t think I care for that. With the full awareness that someone else, maybe lots of people, do.

It’s a way of thinking and behaving that could help take us forward in a much