There was a woman, probably a grandmother, who came into the store. She had a really cute kid with her. Probably not two yet. The grandmother-type was using the store as a distraction to the child. Probably trying to take a break from the restaurant scene right across the hallway.
Well. I wasn't in the mood.
The kid was precious. But, the woman was using the store as a Romper Room for the kid's entertainment.
At this point, in the evening, I just want to know . . . are you buying or not?
After coming in and out of the store two or three times, the proud woman had the baby say bye to us. And, then, she said, "she's from Hawaii" with all smiles.
Really precious, I know.
I told the associate guy that I was working with that I know that I'm a little on the grumpy side. But, that he just had to understand . . . I live and know cute. So cute that you could eat them up. So, the precious baby, at the time, does not do a thing for the heartstrings. I'm telling him that you just have to see my kids.
So cute at this stage of the game just hardly moves me anymore.
Because cute, in one moment, can still be a pain in my ass, in the next moment.
See below for further proof . . .