to the grumpy old man at my grocery store--

Hi. You don't know me. But I see you several times a week when I run into the grocery store for a bunch of bananas or a gallon of milk. You're usually sitting near the deli, unshaven, a collection of food wrappers littering the table and a greasy stream of crumbs cascading from your chin, down your shirt, and into a shimmering pool around your chair. Sometimes you'll stand behind me in line with your beer and Doritos, making your comments as you breathe down my neck.

I'm the one with the curly-haired, pink-clad toddler...you know, the one riding around in one of those HUGE, non-steering, car-shaped grocery carts despite having only 1 or 2 items in the cavernous basket. Yes, I'm the one who rummages in her purse and pulls out an obnoxiously long string of gaudy keychains that I've hooked together specifically to entertain my toddler in the grocery store. Why, you ask? Well, it's to spare you the mind-numbing screeching that occurs when a toddler is confined with no entertainment. You may be surprised to know that I don't enjoy toting around 3 pounds of keychain in my purse. It's a small kindness that I am paying to you and everyone else within a 2-mile radius.

You must be profoundly concerned and interested in the safety of my daughter, since you have told me every time we've met to "be careful, she's going to swallow that." Your disapproving glare and emphatic finger wag really convey the depth of your caring. It's not to say I'm not touched, especially since you always follow it up with a disdainful "is that a boy or a girl?" But I'd like to lay your fears to rest. Please be assured that she is absolutely not going to choke on or swallow a strand of 16 brightly colored keychains and whistles. And please, believe me when I say that you will never be more concerned for her safety than I am.

I hope you enjoyed your Doritos. See you next week!