As he reached for a tin on a high shelf he felt something bang into his legs. Startled he turned his head and noticed a little boy on the floor (for a fleeting moment he thought it was one of his, but no).
"Jordan! Oh, I'm sorry mister," said a short, slightly pudgy woman.
"No worries," Isaac smiled. "I have kids too."
The woman stared at him for a moment.
"I'm sorry, excuse me for asking this, but are you Isaac Hanson?"
"Yeah, I am actually."
"I... I thought you looked familiar. I've been a fan for... well, since '97."
"Always happy to meet a fan. But you seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name and I don't know yours."
"Lori. Lori Williams. I apologise again for Jordan."
"Don't worry about it. I know what they're like at their age."
Lori fidgeted a moment.
"Do you really have thirty kids?" she blurted out. "Oh, no I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Isaac chuckled.
"No, I don't have thirty. I only have twenty."
"That's still a lot."
"A lot of people tell me that. But I only ever think there's too many when I have too much to do and they're in one of their group noisy moods. So, how old are you Jordan?"
Jordan hid behind his mother shyly.
"He's five."
"Five? I have two five-year-old boys, Wolvie and Gambit. So, you doing some last minute Christmas shopping too?"
"Yeah. Where are all your kids?" Lori looked around nervously as if she expected them to jump off the shelves.
"They're at Taylor's place. I don't bring them all shopping with me, that would be nothing but dangerous, I'm afraid. Although, more for this shopping trolley and the staff than for me," he grinned. "Is Jordan it? Or do you have other kids?"
"No, he's an only child. His father died in a car accident a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she replied, waving a hand at him.
"So, what do you do for a living? Or am I prying now?"
"It's fine. I don't have a job at the moment."
Isaac paused.
"I don't suppose you can cook?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I've been looking for a decent cook almost all year now. My wife went into a coma, and since we've all been living at home, as opposed to touring, there has suddenly been a need for a nanny and a cook. I have a nanny, but we've gone through cooks faster than... than..."
"An mmmbop?" Lori suggested with a small, silly smile.
Isaac laughed.
"Yeah, faster than an mmmbop."
"Well, as it is, I'm a qualified chef. But it's so hard trying to find a job which will still give me time to look after Jordan as well."
Isaac nodded and pulled out a business card and a pen. He carefully wrote his home number on the back.
"Don't lose this number - I'm unlisted. And don't give it out okay? Give me a ring and we'll talk about a job."
Lori stared for a moment.
"You're serious?" she asked, tentatively taking the card.
"Very."
"I, uhh, well... I don't know what to say."
"How about, you'll call me?"
Lori managed a laugh.
"I will at that. Thank you, umm, Isaac. And Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."