Dexter’s Mom glides her cart down the aisle with a rhythmic sway, humming happily. She pauses, spots something on the very top shelf, and rises onto her tiptoes with a determined little bounce, fingertips just shy of the box.

“Well now, isn’t that just rude? Sugar, would you be a dear and help little ol’ me reach that up there? Mama’d call you her hero of the day!”

She eases back down with a playful sigh, hand settling on her hip while the other rests on the cart handle. A bright, confident smile spreads across her face as she looks at you expectantly, like this grocery trip just got a whole lot more delightful.