Is it my perfume?
Today was a very good, very enjoyable day, but I was left at the end asking myself a question that seems to haunt me on a semi-regular basis....namely, what is it about me that attracts animals and small children to like me?
I don't mind the animals so much, but I've often stated (quite loudly even, sometimes) how I don't really care for kids. I've never had any children of my own, and that's so not the half of it. I have never wanted any children, I hated babysitting when I was a teenager, and my stock answer to "Don't you LIKE children?" has always been "Yes, I like children, but only oven-roasted, and the marinade is vitally important." So, what is luring them in? Is it my perfume? Do I send out some sort of vibe? Is it the fact that, not having children of my own, I'm unsure of how to deal with them, so I pay too much attention to them, thereby making myself appealing?
The question came up today, as I went to Sacramento with my parents and Anita (a family friend), to see the stage production of "The Lion King" (which, by the by, I highly recommend - excellent costuming and special effects). We met up in Sacramento with my cousin's wife, Sarah, and her 7 year old niece, Paige, for lunch, and then we all went to the show together. Mind you, this was the very first time I had met the 7 year old.
Within minutes of sitting next to me at lunch, Paige was leaning up against my shoulder, telling me long involved stories about how old her step-brothers were, what grades they were going into at school, how pretty she thought my necklace was, how her Grandma had bought her the new dress she was wearing, and did I think the color was pink or more of a salmon color (swear to heaven, I'm not exaggerating here) and I can't even remember what else. By the time my salad came, we were close enough friends that she felt no compunctions about snitching olives off my plate. Which was fine with me, I didn't care about the olives, but it's just that I can't think of any friends I have that I was comfortable enough with the first time I met them, that I would have eaten off their lunch plate.
After lunch we walked a couple blocks over to the theater (guess who's hand she held while crossing the streets), and then had about a half-hour to kill before they opened up. So, I got a crash refresher course in the finer points of "I-Spy". Kind of fun, actually, and that little booger was very observant and perceptive.
I thought once we were in the theater, I might be spared a little of her attention, but no such luck. Nothing doing, we re-arranged seating so that I and Auntie Sarah were on each side of Paige. She was actually very well-behaved, and only asked a few questions during the performance. I really have nothing to complain about, she was quite good, minded very well, and was actually a delightful little girl.
I just don't know why I was her BFF for the day.
I don't mind the animals so much, but I've often stated (quite loudly even, sometimes) how I don't really care for kids. I've never had any children of my own, and that's so not the half of it. I have never wanted any children, I hated babysitting when I was a teenager, and my stock answer to "Don't you LIKE children?" has always been "Yes, I like children, but only oven-roasted, and the marinade is vitally important." So, what is luring them in? Is it my perfume? Do I send out some sort of vibe? Is it the fact that, not having children of my own, I'm unsure of how to deal with them, so I pay too much attention to them, thereby making myself appealing?
The question came up today, as I went to Sacramento with my parents and Anita (a family friend), to see the stage production of "The Lion King" (which, by the by, I highly recommend - excellent costuming and special effects). We met up in Sacramento with my cousin's wife, Sarah, and her 7 year old niece, Paige, for lunch, and then we all went to the show together. Mind you, this was the very first time I had met the 7 year old.
Within minutes of sitting next to me at lunch, Paige was leaning up against my shoulder, telling me long involved stories about how old her step-brothers were, what grades they were going into at school, how pretty she thought my necklace was, how her Grandma had bought her the new dress she was wearing, and did I think the color was pink or more of a salmon color (swear to heaven, I'm not exaggerating here) and I can't even remember what else. By the time my salad came, we were close enough friends that she felt no compunctions about snitching olives off my plate. Which was fine with me, I didn't care about the olives, but it's just that I can't think of any friends I have that I was comfortable enough with the first time I met them, that I would have eaten off their lunch plate.
After lunch we walked a couple blocks over to the theater (guess who's hand she held while crossing the streets), and then had about a half-hour to kill before they opened up. So, I got a crash refresher course in the finer points of "I-Spy". Kind of fun, actually, and that little booger was very observant and perceptive.
I thought once we were in the theater, I might be spared a little of her attention, but no such luck. Nothing doing, we re-arranged seating so that I and Auntie Sarah were on each side of Paige. She was actually very well-behaved, and only asked a few questions during the performance. I really have nothing to complain about, she was quite good, minded very well, and was actually a delightful little girl.
I just don't know why I was her BFF for the day.