Went out tonight for a family dinner at a funky Mexican eatery a few towns over. Afterwards, we strolled through the posh little downtown, looking in shop windows, enjoying the people-watching, and dropping in some children’s shops to peruse the goods. (This actually is the town Tom and I met in when we both worked for the same retailer while in college. He joked how, tonight, 15 years later, we’re now walking in that same town but the locales that pique our interest are so very different as the only shops we ever enter are the child-centric ones. Rrrright. Oh, how times change.)
Froo-froo and quaint, people-watching and all, we were enjoying our stroll. After dinner we walked around the corner for some cookies-n-cream italian-ice goodness. A bubble machine outside the storefront was a major entertainment factor for Maeve. Aaaah, a sweet little evening with our little family.
Except for …
the random little boy who walked right up to Maeve in her stroller, grabbed a corkscrew curl from atop her head — and yanked! (We had slowed down when we saw him approach because he clearly was heading for Maeve. We thought he was going to lean in and say hello.)
I think I actually gasped. Maeve Just. Looked. Confused. (The little protective parent hairs on the back of my neck were at full attention.) Thomas and I were completely taken off-guard, sharing “What the heck just happened?” and “What the heck do we do?” looks back and forth.
I rubbed Maeve’s head and we walked away, a little faster then we had approached.
Well, it was a semi-idyllic evening anyway.