Circus freak

“Muuuuum! I want the candy! And the toys! I want the car!” Harry looked up from where he had been manning the toys and candy booth, quickly closing the math workbook he’d been working on and shoving it beneath the till, placing the calculator back on the desk.
The speaker was a large, pudgy blond boy, who was wearing a red jumper and a pair of jeans, accompanied by a severe looking woman whose hair was tied tightly into a bun and looked like the exact opposite of her son; thin as a stick. Customers.
He adjusted his bow tie, leaning forward as they came closer.
“I want the cotton candy! And the cinnamon balls! And the motorcycle! And-and the chocolate!” He exclaimed, pointing at nearly every display they had. The woman looked at the toy motorcycle, seemingly doubtful as she flipped the price tag over. Harry knew all the prices by memory by now, and could guess why she had that look on her face. It was 300£, quite possibly the most expensive thing the Circus offered. “Duddy-kins, how about instead of the motorcycle we go get ice cream later? I’ll buy you chocolate and gummies from here,” she offered instead, sounding for all the world like she was talking to a toddler, instead of a boy Harry guessed was roughly his age. Duddy-kins screwed up his face, about to throw a tantrum, but his mother glanced quickly towards the crowd and added, “I’ll get you the cotton candy as well,” she soothed, and his face smoothed out. “Alright,” he looked gleeful, and stomped towards the till. “I want a green apple, and I want a blueberry cotton candy,” he ordered. Harry nodded, hopping off his stool to stand by the cotton candy machine, picking out the correct flavors and a white, rolled up piece of cardboard with fanciful designs on it. As he set to work twirling the cloud of sugar around (and snatching a few strands for himself), the other boy started grabbing one of each package of chocolate, as well as multiple packs of the Green Frog and Shark gummy packets, wrapped neatly in silver foil with the Circus’ symbol stamped on top. All of this was poured onto the till as Harry grabbed an egg carton with holes drilled into it, setting the cotton candy sticks neatly into them and adding it to the mess. He gave everything a cursory glance, before counting under his breath and punching the number into the calculator. “That’ll be 30 pounds total,” he said, starting to stack the candies neatly in a brown paper bag with handles. It was nearly ripped from his hands as the pudgy boy grabbed onto it, waddling away while stuffing his face full of sea salt chocolate in the shape of a torch. Harry wrinkled his nose at his back. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the boy for a good while. The way he nearly smeared the candy onto his face made him want to throw up in the nearest trash bin.