Paul: A Dialogue
A Father and Son exit their automobile in the parking lot of a large grocery store.
Father: This will be a quick stop. We just need a couple of things for dinner.
Son: Observe: I have removed my shoes during the drive.
F: I see. Let me put them back on your feet, then.
S: That is acceptable.
F: Excellent.
S: With my shoes on, it seems plausible that I could walk across the parking lot.
F: You can, but you have to hold my hand.
S: I would prefer not to.
F: Then I’ll carry you.
S: I would prefer to walk.
F: While holding my hand?
S: As I said, I would prefer not to.
F: …Well, here we are at the shopping carts. Let’s get you buckled in.
S: I would strongly prefer to walk on my own.
F: And hold my hand?
S: That would not be my preference, as I believe I indicated earlier.
F: I really need you to, though. It’s a safety issue, buddy.
S: I don’t share your assessment.
F: …Okay, into the cart with you.
The timbre of the Son’s objections immediately increase in both frequency and amplitude.
F: I guess we’re walking.
S: Excellent.
S: Father, observe the colors of these bottles. Are they not exceptionally vivid?
F: They are, but they’re not what we’re here for. Let’s keep walking.
S: Ah! I believe they use a clever push-button actuation! How fascinating.
F: We’ve got to keep walking, buddy.
S: Alas.
F: It’s true.
S: Ah! I see an installation not unlike our refrigerator at home, but the door on this one is transparent. I will attempt to open it.
F: Must you?
S: I must. I’m having some difficulty with it, though.
The Father begins to realize the error of conceding the cart issue.
F: You know what, I think we’re just going to have to try a different grocery store.
S: Very well. Ah, here we are at the parking lot again. Father—I can’t help but notice the Barnes & Noble next door. Grandmother has taken me there several times; it’s a remarkable place, and all the best baubles are considerately placed at my eye level.
F: Ah.
S: We should go there.
F: We’re on the clock, kiddo.
S: We should go there immediately.
F: We should not, and will not.
S: I object to this high-handed fiat.
F: I know, buddy.
The Father picks the Son up.
S: I object in the strongest possible terms.
F: You certainly do.
S: I cannot overstate the degree of my disappointment and outrage.
F: Not for lack of trying, apparently.
S: Don’t be clever, Father.