An elderly man is wheeling a trolley through the supermarket. In the front is a small child, making an unholy racket. They pass a woman, who overhears the man.
“It’s alright, George, we’re nearly done,” he says.
A few minutes later, she encounters them again. This time the child is clawing open a packet of crisps and throwing them at the elderly man. She overhears him again.
“Patience, George – nearly there.”
Two aisles over, and there they are again. The child is now howling and kicking the elderly man, while rubbing snot into his jumper. Once more, she overhears him.
“Not long now, George. We’re nearly out of here.”
Near the checkouts, she runs into them again. Now the child is throwing money out of the elderly man’s wallet and swearing picturesquely at other shoppers. She can’t help hearing him again.
“Soon be at the car, George, soon be time to go home. Just need to stick it out a little longer.”
On the way out, she can’t help herself. She goes up to the elderly man, excuses herself for butting in, and congratulates him on his patience with his grandson George. “I’ve never seen anyone deal so calmly with this sort of thing,” she tells him.
“Well, thank you, miss,” he replies. “But I’m George. This little sod is called Kevin.”