"Mommy! Mommy! I want that!"

Jimmy's cries pierced the air as I tugged exasperatedly at his hand. He was a rock, solid and immovable. Who would have thought a six-year-old could be so stubborn? Or maybe it was me. Why was I always so impatient and hurried? I was always running around like a lunatic. Maybe I should stop every once in a while.

"What, Jimmy? What do you want?"

"I want that."

He removed his hands from his mouth long enough to point a slimy finger toward a store window.

My eyes followed his dripping finger to a large lollipop - an all-day sucker. I sighed, debating the pros and cons in my mind. Jimmy continued his "I want that" chant, in an annoyingly loud voice. Anxious to avert the stares which I was already receiving from other Sunday shoppers, I quickly agreed to buy the lollipop and hurried inside to make my purchase.

The smile on Jimmy's face when I handed him the sticky treat was the kind that parents live for. His eyes were dancing as they traced the brightly colored swirls and his "Thank you" was a revered whisper.

The gigantic smile on Jimmy's face sent me back to my childhood and my own all-day suckers. Shopping trips with my mother were never the highlight of my weekend. I have often been told that my abilities to whine and carry on were perfected on those shopping trips. There was only one thing which would appease me on those fateful trips - an all-day sucker.

Realizing the great value of my craving, my parents, as all parents do, made the most of this passion. All-day suckers soon became bribes or rewards. Often I was punished by having one removed from my tightly clenched fist. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't hold onto the slippery stick, and my parents had the better grip anyway.

A slow smile crossed my face as I remembered the pleasure of carrying that lollipop for as long as it lasted - which was always a lot less than "all-day." They never seemed to last long enough to appease me, or any child.

A slight tug on my hand brought me back to reality. I smiled down at Jimmy, gave him a hug and a kiss and continued on my errands.

Hurriedly, I went from store to store, pulling Jimmy along. Quick glances at my watch proved only that I was running out of time, while quick glances at Jimmy proved that he was running out of lollipop.

Often the weekends remind me of all-day suckers; they never seem to last long enough. n