Cute kids

On Friday at work, I was squatting on the floor to rummage through a box when I felt a gentle touch on my leg. I turned to find a little girl—blonde, blue-eyed, about two years old—who had decided to come over to see what I was doing. Her hand was resting on my leg for support. It was refreshing to be around a kid who hasn’t learned yet that it’s “not okay” to touch strangers or enter their personal space. Plus it was just darned cute.

I worked again today, mostly on register. A woman came up with her grandson, who looked about three, and set him on my counter. He was in a mischievous mood and reached out to touch my scanning gun, and Grandma told him no. From then on he kept pointing toward it and saying, “No way I’m gonna touch that, baby!” He giggled and said it over and over again because it made Grandma and me laugh at his usage of the word baby. (Grandma said, “Are you flirting?”) He knew he was being silly, and his laughter was so goofy that it cracked me up. Cute kid.

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