The cashier was a very tiny, very young looking girl. Like I might have guessed fourteen. But probably even in our new, child-labor-laws-are-to-be-laughed-away reality, she was actually more like ... sixteen. I was buying, among other things, carrots. A five-pound bag of big, fat carrots.

"Wow," the cashier murmured. "These are really big carrots."

"They really are!" I agreed.

"I wish I could get my brother to grow carrots," she said, all wistful and dreamy.

"Does your brother have a garden?" I asked.

"Yes. He just started it. He just graduated."

"Oh! Congratulations to him."

"He wants to study botany."

"Wow, that's great. I have a nephew who's studying something like that." (Actually he's studying permaculture and sustainable agriculture.)

"Is he successful?" she asked, very serious.

"Well, he only just finished his freshman year," I said. "But yes, so far he is."

She smiled a dreamy smile. "That's great."

--I look forward to seeing her again, the dreamy cashier who appreciates big fat carrots. I hope she can get her brother to grow some.