(It is a busy day where I work. I have endured a rude boss and a few rude customers. Finally, I am able to go out into the lobby to stock and clean it. While I am cleaning by the soda machines and condiment bar, a little boy of around five years old sees me crying to myself. Once they grab their orders, the boy and the older lady with him walk by me while I continue stocking the condiment bar. I feel a tap on my shoulder.)

Older Lady: “Are you okay, miss?”

Me: *thinking I’m not okay but if I say anything I’ll get in trouble* “I’m great, and I’m doing okay… Why?”

Older Lady: “My grandson said, ‘Grandma, I think that lady is crying; is she okay?’”

Me: *heart melts and I smile finally* “Please tell him that I’m fine, ma’am, and I appreciate his kind thoughts.”

Older Lady: *sees straight through me* “I hope your day gets better, miss.”

(I get more customers and deal with their orders, or stock behind counter. I finally get a chance to finish the lobby, and when I go back to the condiment bar she walks up to me.)

Older Lady: “My grandson felt really bad, and demanded we get you this from his allowance.” *gives me a super cute plushie giraffe keychain*

Me: “Oh, thank you, but I can’t.”

Older Lady: “He told me to make sure the nice lady up front got this from him.”

Me: *smiling* “Tell your wonderful grandson, ‘Thank you very much!’ He made my day a little sweeter!”

Older Lady: “I will. Thank you, miss; you’re doing a good job up there.”

(My aunt and her three-year-old daughter are at a festival when they come across a person dressed like a giant peach. So far, my cousin has been very calm with all the costumes, but this one really freaks her out, enough so that they have to go home because she’s so terrified. The next day…)

Aunt: “We’re going grocery shopping.”

Cousin: *fearfully* “Will there be a peach?”

Aunt: “No, honey, there won’t be a peach.”

(Some time later…)

Aunt: “We’re going out to a restaurant.”

Cousin: “Will there be a peach?”

(This continues for months. My aunt is at her wit’s end, but finally, after this has been going on for a very long time, my cousin is starting to not be afraid of seeing a peach everywhere she goes, and only asks about it every so often. One day:)

Aunt: “We’re going to [Charity Thrift Store].”

Cousin: “Will there be a peach?”

Aunt: “No, sweetie, no peaches.”

(They got to [Charity Thrift Store], and the moment they walked in the door they saw a GIANT stuffed peach with eyes, arms, and legs just sitting on a shelf, staring at them! My cousin freaked out and they left immediately. Her fear was blown back up to huge proportions, and she continued to be terrified of leaving the house for many months after that. The story of how there JUST HAPPENED to be a huge peach at [Charity Thrift Store] is now legendary in our family.)

(We are having a heatwave at the moment. As I am shopping, I pass a small girl and what I assume is her grandmother. The grandmother is carrying two boxes of ice lollies, each containing 12 lollipops.)

Grandmother: “Right. We need to get these home before they melt.”

Granddaughter: “Or we could just eat them now.”

(I admire her ambition.)

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(I share a yard with my neighbour, and since we both have kids the same age, we are normally playing outside at the same time. Their youngest daughter is three and really has taken a liking to me. One day we are out, and all the kids are playing except her. She is standing next to my chair watching me.)

Me: “Why don’t you go play, sweetheart? What’s your favourite toy out here?”

Three-Year-Old: *with the biggest smile you can imagine* “You!”

(My two-year-old’s hair has gotten a bit long, so I decide to trim it. I have him sitting on my lap, and just as I start to trim his hair, my phone goes off. It’s a Skype call, and he knows that my phone only makes that particular sound when his dad is calling, so he excitedly bounces right as I close the scissors. I sigh as I answer the video call and give my son the phone.)

Son: “Dada! Hi!”

Husband: “Hey there, son!”

(My son starts jabbering away at my husband, then suddenly he reaches up and grabs the back of his head and his eyes go wide.)

Son: *patting the back of his head* “Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh!”

Husband: *to me* “What’s wrong? Why’s he grabbing his head like that?”

Me: “Well, he moved right as I went to trim his hair, and I wound up cutting it way shorter than I meant to. He just realized how much hair I chopped off back there.”

Husband: *laughs* “Did she gap your hair, buddy?”

Son: *nods* “Yeah!” *pats back of his head again then looks at me* “Gosh!”

Me: *rolls eyes* “Well, sir, when you finish your conversation with Dada, I will get the clippers out and cut your hair so that it’s all short.”

(My son sits quietly a moment as if he’s contemplating what I’ve said, then nods.)

Son: “You do it.”

Husband: *laughs* “I wonder how well that’s going to go over?”

(For the rest of the twenty minute call, he occasionally reached up to touch the back of his head and say, “Oh, gosh!” When we had finished the call, my son sat completely still for most of his hair cut. The only time he moved was to occasionally wipe the hair off his face and the back of his neck before I could do it. I am so glad he didn’t cry or throw a fit like some children his age do.)