Have you ever caught a glimpse of a baby or a small child in the midst of a full blown, screaming, crying, tantrum in the middle of a grocery store, mother standing by in hopeless surrender of the inevitable? For some reason when I see them in the midst of their open mouthed, not so silent protest, I have to smile at them. Not that I find joy in their apparent misfortune of being deprived their freedom from the grocery cart, chocolate, or nap.
Firstly, I smile because I love the flagrant disregard of children for what is socially appropriate. While everyone else is exchanging pleasantries, there is a 2 foot 5 inch ball of pure rage who demands to be acknowledged. Sometimes I wish we were all like that. What if every time the person in front of me took the last pretzel roll, I burst into angry tears and unleashed my pure, raw emotion? Or the next time someone criticized my bagging technique, or demanded triple plastic with double paper, with one item per bag, I screamed bloody hell? Bottling emotion would be no more.
The second thing I love is that whenever I catch the eye of an unhappy darling, I raise my eyebrows and smile at them, almost as if to say "...Really? Is this really something to be upset about?" Almost inevitable, they hold my gaze and stop screaming long enough to try and figure out why I dare to smile in the midst of their meltdown. It's almost as if they cannot fathom why I am not buying the pity party. Then as quickly as the peace comes, it departs again. The child's mouth parts and he gives a half- hearted howl, as if to make it clear to me how truly upset he is, and I walk away, still smiling.
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