I'm really not that busy

Finding hilarity in the mundane since 2008

That’s it, no more cuteness allowed

Today Cooper was particularly cute.  His hair was combed, he was clean, and his clothes matched right down to his shades.  He said hello to strangers, smiled his devilish little grin, and held up three fingers in a wobbly “okay” sign to indicate how many fingers old he is.  You know, the complete opposite of his normal appearance and behavior. An older man in line with us at the bookstore found him particularly charming and asked for my permission to give him a quarter.  I agreed, and as he fished through a handful of coins to pick the shiniest one, he told me he had grandchildren and even great-grandchildren he had never met.  He said, “My kids told their kids I was dead.”  As Cooper snatched the coin into his greedy little paw, my mouth spoke, “Thank you.”  At the same moment my brain slapped me upside the head and said, “You fucking idiot, you just taught your kid to take money from a pedophile!”

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