“It’s a … cup,” Nell said.

“I know right,” Haley said. “isn’t it simply gorge.”

Crowds of people bustled around them. An ocean of gleeful grabbing hands reached for the boxes of thermal cups. Blinking in confusion, Nell watched the towering stack of boxed cups be swarmed.

“Does it do something else? I bet it connects to the internet. You can text,” Nell said.

“No, it’s—“

A brilliant flash blinded Haley. Nell put her hand up to shield her granddaughter’s eyes. Several girls were taking selfies with their cups while a brightly colored young gentleman was being filmed unboxing his prize.

“It’s so heavy and boxy. I bet you can email all your little friends. Wait, not email Jojo told me about the new one on Thanksgiving, Facebooktime, no. ‘Gram, no. TikTok, yes! You can do those tickety tocking with your big cup,” Nell said, clapping because she’d remembered those funny cat videos with the man’s voice her grandson had shown her.

“No, Grand, it’s a cup, just a cup. Well not just a cup. But you can only drink with it,” Haley explained.

Raucous, the crowd around them streaming to the thermal cups grew. Elbows were out as shoppers jostled for the last handful of boxes. Someone pushed someone else into a display of soccer balls.

“But for 75 bucks, you can at least chirp with it,” Nell said as she turned the box around and shook it.

“What! Chirp like a bird no you mean tweet. It’s not even called that anymore. No, Grand. You can’t tweet or do any social media. It’s a cup, a big old cup. Keeps your water cold or hot. You can decorate it with your Criket. Of course, you hashtag when you get one. They had been sold out for forever. Weeks and weeks.”

Tussling over the last boxes of thermal cups ratcheted up. A large guy with four boxes was tackled by a pack of middle school girls. Nell led Haley away from the melee and closer to the sporting goods store’s bank of cash registers.

“So it’s like that Power Puff Girls Thermos I got you that Christmas in your lunchbox. I got up at three in the morning to pick you up and drive you to this Children of the Corn shopping center by five then wait until the store opened at seven for a lunchbox thermos,” Nell said smirking as she handed the box back to Haley.

With a quivering upper lip, Haley added, “Grand, this is a sick Watermelon Moonshine 40 ounce Lainey Wilson. This tumbler is going for $250 on eBay and I got it. We got it. It’s lit!”

Spinning like a ballerina, Haley unboxed the cup and held up the ginormous tumbler in gleaning metallic fuchsia and bottle green. A guy ran by and ripped the cup from Haley’s hand. Lightning fast, Nell clotheslined him with her forearm and the thief hit the concrete like a sack of cement.

“Grand!”

“Did I ever tell you about your mother and the great Beanie Baby riot of 1995? Your uncle Jimmy broke his collarbone but we got that Zippy Black Cat,” Nell said, dusting off her hands. “I will tell you everything over waffles.”

Picking up her granddaughter’s cup as well as the thief’s hot pink Starbucks tumbler Nell guided her granddaughter to checkout. Sirens blaring, a pair of black and white patrol cars pulled up in front of the sporting goods store. Arm in arm, heads together, the pair headed away from the fray and out to the parking lot.