When Cute Becomes Crazy

Last week, my family and I were eating out at McDonalds.  My daughter Emily was delighted in her Happy Meal, shoveling french fries down her gullet in between her happy innocent giggles.  Ketchup was smeared all over her cute little cheeks.  Her father encouraged her, “Eat your nugget meat” because we both refuse to refer to that substance as chicken. 

An elderly couple was sitting near us, peering over at our happy little daughter.   As they exited the establishment, they first approached our booth and handed my nearly two year old daughter one dollar and two dimes.  “That’s for being so cute,” the gray-haired man said, “you just made my day.”

I absolutely love these little kindnesses of strangers.  But, this small gesture also made me contemplate all the cute shit that children can do and be found totally adorb, but the same actions in adults would be deemed slightly insane.

Child = Cute

When babies drool all over their precious faces, it’s usually endearing as can be.  I just might be found saying, “Oh, look at you – you sweet little drool monster.  Aren’t you just a doll?”  For adults, this is a totally different story.  I also could be found complaining, “Fucking gross dude.  Shut your trap, you damn mouth-breather!”
 

When my daughter was stumbling around and falling on her behind while learning to walk, we were quick to get a hold of a camera and record these treasured moments. When I stumble around and fall on my ass (why haven’t you pinned this yet, people?), it usually doesn’t go on record (thank goodness) and my husband might be heard hollering, “Are you kidding me? You cannot be this damn drunk again!”

The majority of my children’s clothing would never be found in the adult section at the nearest Gap store.  For example, I become utterly thrilled with gifts of baby clothes with animals on the ass.  Butt monkey, tiny tiger face, happy bunny, so damn cute you can barely stand it puppy faces – I love all that shit. Seriously …  LOVE.  My son’s sweet little diapered booty is the most wonderful when he’s wearing his tiger on the booty pants.  Somehow I highly doubt that anyone would care to witness me strutting about with a tiger face on my fat ass.  On second thought, I might actually be able to find several interested parties because Craig’s List is a strange, strange place.

You should all also know, for future reference, that pissing your pants is no longer acceptable at a certain age.  That guy you’ve been flirting with all evening, hoping for a random hook-up, will suddenly disappear once you’ve reached this point of intoxication.  Just trust me on this one. 

These maniacal musings of mine led to tonight’s “social experiment.”  How would fast food diners react if I behaved as my daughter did?  Would I get a little pocket change too?  Is it possible for my cute and charming presence to thoroughly make someone’s day? I simply had to know right now, so the family returned to McDonalds. My mom had called right before we left for our meal to inform us that she had cooked up some pork chops, mashed potatoes, and whole wheat rolls.  She invited my family to join her and my father for dinner, but I had to reject her offer because I was determined.  I tried explaining to her that I had to conduct crucial research.  In response, she said, “put your husband on the phone.”

 

After a short silence where I can only imagine she was asking if I was still on my medication, I heard Sam say, “I don’t understand her either, Cindy.  I’m just along for the ride.”  This particular evening the ride began after I filled my cup with cola and took a seat in the McDonald’s booth.  I promptly smeared ketchup on my face and sat there giggling and consuming my certain to lead to a fat ass fries. 

No one gave me a dollar. No one.  However, the baby in the near-by high chair seemed highly entertained by me as he giggled along and pointed my way.  When his mother turned around to see what he was pointing at, she did not appear nearly as impressed.

Mommy = Mental

 

 

The man across from us glanced over, then quickly averted his eyes and leaned in to whisper something to his wife.  I am going to assume that something went a little like this: “What’s wrong with that woman?  Do you think she might be a little slow?  She looks alright, though.  Must be the drugs.  Definitely drugs.”

Two of my students also walked in during my meal.  I smiled as they glided past me, unaware as to whether they actually noticed because their heads were turned down to the text messages on their cell phones.  Apparently, though, one of them must have noticed because I overheard, “OMG. Is that our new study hall teacher?”

Shortly after this, my husband requested, “Okay Angela.  Can you please take this napkin and clean up your face now?” 

I refused by explaining that making note of customer reactions was the most essential element of my experiment.  He is, after all, a science teacher.  He should have been proud, rather than ashamed, of me for doing such devoted work in order to affirm my hypothesis.  Indeed, my assumptions were accurate; shit that is cute on my toddler is just straight crazy on me.

While no fellow patron offered me coinage for my piggy bank or otherwise expressed appreciation of my shenanigans, I did make someone’s day all the same.  Whose day? My day! We should all accept joy whenever and however we find or create it.  So, please join my husband and come along for the ride by following Not Appropriate Angela on facebook.  If you don’t, I will have an all-out, down on the ground, kicking and screaming temper tantrum, and that shit isn’t cute at any age.

 

Baby Tiger Butt = OMG Cutie Patootie!

 

 

Mommy Tiger Butt = WTF Cray-Cray

 

 

You can find my helpful instructions for “how to make an ass tiger” at the same stitching guild link -up I tried to team up with prior to finding my tribe.  I'm hooking up with the lovely folks (who don't discourage my vulgarity; they actually embrace it --- mostly) at yeah write.

 

               

 

 

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