Would You Still Like Me if I Looked Like This?

I was having a bad day. The night before I had someone confide in me that she was getting divorce because her husband cheated on her with her next door neighbor. And then following our conversation, I accidentally backed into her other neighbor's car. Oi vey. And then in the morning I started what every female trying to get pregnant hates with every fiber of her being - yes, Aunt Flow came to pay her monthly visit. I realize I should just think as though it will come every month, thus being less disappointed when it actually does, but I can't help but hope. Sometimes I wonder if it's healthier to keep that hope and risk being disappointed time after time again, or to forgo it all together, risking what could be an even more dangerous result - bitterness, cynicism, or whatever else has the potential to spring from something void of hope. Right now I'll choose to hold onto that glimmer of hope. For now. Combine all of this with the fact that while I'm thankful to have a job, it in no way is anything close to being satisfying or fulfilling, and you have an arrival to work yesterday that just put the icing on the cake. Somebody get me a puppy.

I was indulging my bad mood all morning. I was content to wallow in it all day if I had to. After all, my attitude seemed like the only thing I could control in life, and by golly, I was going to choose to feel like poop. Luckily, however, for my sake, and for the sake of those around me (because who loves the smell of feces-riddled attitude), the afternoon offered me the opportunity to choose a slightly less potent perspective on life.

"Griffin! You should go to the grocery store with me!" My three year old cousin was visiting at work for a few minutes, and I got the brilliant idea to take him with me. There's nothing more vibrant in an otherwise cloudy day than a completely honest, genuine, loving and freaking hilarious little kid. I mean, who wouldn't want to hang out with a child who spent his free time dressing up like the Disney Frozen princess, Elsa (high heels and all), and belting out the tunes as though he was one day destined to sing them as Idina Menzel, herself. You really can't help but fall in love with that. And so we went, but not before he reminded me that he got a cookie out of the deal.

We were in the produce section of Fred Meyer. I was hunting down organic apples. And my little tagalong was devouring his cookie prize. Suddenly, as I'm browsing the various colors of fruit before me, a small voice below me says, "Would you still like me if I looked like THIS?" I turned to look. What stood before me was the goofiest, most ridiculous face any three year old could muster up. Immediately my bad day dissipated with the mist that always annoyingly sprays the produce right when you're about to pick it up. I couldn't hold it back and burst out laughing. "Would you like me if I looked like THIS?" He switched poses, engaging not only his face this time, but contorting his arms into what he thought must've been a horrific scene. I affirmed in each instant, that yes, I would absolutely love him if he looked like that. As with any three year old, the reaction they get only fuels the fire, and his faces and body contortions continued past the bananas, and the potatoes and into the baking aisle. Passerbys were laughing as his loud voice carried over the store. People stopped to watch.

And I couldn't have been more thankful for a little boy whose only intention at that moment was to make me laugh.

Thank you, Griffin, for reminding me to "Let it Go."