Disclaimer: The contents of this post are in no way intended to indicate that my commitment to my curmudgeony manner has decreased.
Two small episodes made me smile in the last 12 hours. The first occurred as Granny and I were going to bed. Through our closed bedroom door, we could hear our frickin' adorable granddaughter talking happily to herself. This went on for several minutes nonstop. Granny went into The Daughter's room to grab a midnight snack of that baby goodness. She came back chuckling to herself.
"Did you hear what your daughter said?"
"No," I answered.
"Your daughter said, 'Mom, the baby is not going to sleep. Her bedtime is 9:30.'" Isn't that great? The Daughter has given her 3-month-old child a bedtime! Hilarious.
Then, this morning, I was driving to work and stopped at a light. A woman pushing a stroller walked across the crosswalk. Her snot-nosed three-year-old (No, I do not know he was three. What are you, the Accuracy in Blogging Police?) held her hand and as he passed me, looked up at me.
I did something that is completely out of character for me. I smiled. He smiled back and waved. It changed the whole tone of my day. Something as little as a smile made a difference. That was nice. (And if you ever tell a soul about this, I'll cut you into little pieces and feed you to Dick Cheney.)