|2007_0902 Zoo Trip|
Ulysses rode the new carousel, his first time on one. He loved it. I stood by him, one hand on the aluminum rod and one protectively behind him, resting on the back of the warthog. Big tusks.
As we stood in line minutes before, I had given Ulysses a dollar to give to the attendant. He gave it back to me. I pressed it into his hand as she approached, and she took it before he had a chance to return it to me again. He hadn't seen that use for money before: a service. A privilege. The right to do something. He knew of money as the thing you give the cashier when you want to make an object yours to take home from the store.