You push the shopping cart slowly down the aisles.

Between the shelves of pasta and rice, you pause for a moment, compare prices, turn a package over and read the ingredients.

Somewhere behind you, a cart rolls past. Everything seems calm, until you suddenly hear laughter.

A bright, child laugh you recognize instantly.

Your daughter.

You can’t help but smile, but then you hear Lando’s voice, half whisper, half joke.

“Pssst." He says quietly. “Mummy’s going to be mad at me again. You can have anything you want, but it’s our little secret, okay?”

Your smile freezes.

You put the bag of rice back on the shelf and start walking, slow, deliberate steps, toward the toy aisle.

When you turn the corner, you see the scene.

Your two year old daughter stands in the middle of the aisle, clutching a huge doll almost as big as she is.

Her eyes shine, her whole face lit up with excitement, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Next to her stands Lando, grinning like he’s just done something clever.

In one hand, he’s holding a small princess figure, in the other, a big, brightly wrapped playset that probably costs as much as the week’s groceries.

“Lando?” You say calm, but your voice carries that tone he instantly recognizes.

He flinches a little, turning to you with a sheepish smile. “Oh, Babe! She picked out the doll. I told her she could choose one thing…” He points at the giant doll.

You look at him, then at her, then back again.

“Just one thing?” You raise an eyebrow, gesturing to his hands. “That looks like more than one to me.”

He waves it off. “Yeah, well…the little figure was cheap, barely counts. And the doll..come on, look how happy she is.”

Your daughter hugs the doll tight, looking up at you with a face that could melt any resistance.

You sigh, crouch down and brush her hair aside. “The doll is beautiful, sweetheart. But we can’t buy everything you want, okay?”

She nods slightly, probably only half understanding, but the smile stays as she glances up at Lando.

Then you stand up again and face him.

“We’ve talked about this. You can’t buy her every time she asks sweetly. She has to learn she can’t always get what she wants.”

“She’s three!” He says, as if that explains everything. “She doesn’t get it yet. Besides..it’s just a toy.”

“Just a toy…” You repeat softly, feeling frustration rising. “Last week it was the stuffed animal. Before that, the painting set. Before that, the cars. Every time you give her what she wants, she learns that 'no' means 'later', Lando.”

He looks at you with that slightly irritated expression he always wears when you remind him of something he doesn’t want to hear. "You’re overreacting. I’m not spoiling her.”

“You’re not?” You point at the doll, then the playset and the figure.

“You tell her I’ll be mad when you buy her things. You make me the bad guy so you can be the hero. And in the end, you’re the one who gets to comfort her when I say no. She knows all she has to do is look sad and Daddy will make it all better.”

For a moment, there’s silence.

Only the beeping of the registers in the distance.

Lando takes a slow breath, looks at you, then at her. “I’m not spoiling her." He says again, almost stubbornly.

You huff a quiet, bitter laugh. “No, of course not. You just buy her everything she wants and tell her I’m the mean one.”

He shrugs, half defiant, half appeasing. “You always make such a big deal out of small things.”

You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you.

Not physical tiredness, but that kind that comes from having the same argument for the hundreds time.

He sighs softly and puts the other toys back on the shelf. “Fine. But she can keep the doll.”

You just nod and as you continue down the aisle, your daughter holds her giant doll tightly in her arms.

You can feel the unspoken tension hanging between you.

Silent, but always coming home with you.