Week 17 Day 2: Smiling at old people

Old people love to smile at Gavin and Gavin loves to smile at old people. This is the conclusion I've come to after a survey I have not actually been conducting over the past two days. But it is something I notice. Maybe it's a grandparents thing. I once told my youngest sister Amanda when she was probably around two that when old people smile at you it means they want to eat you. She still remembers this. Thankfully she no longer believes it. I don't think.

Today at CVS (I know, I know. I go shopping too much/I go to the drug store more than anyone else you know) an old man with a cane waiting at the pharmacy, probably for a prescription for his angina and gout (because, you know, old people! Says the 32-year-old who gets heartburn from eating bread), chatted Gavin up while I was buying my allergy medicine. Gavin was just flashing his gap-toothed smile like crazy for this guy. I love it when he does that. I mean, for one thing, it makes me look good. :) For another thing, his smile totally lights up my life, so why not spread some of that goodness around? The man told us a little about his granddaughter and how he can always get her to smile for him and how it makes her other grandfather jealous. But hey, what's a little spirited competition among grandfathers?

Then at Borders a man and a woman came into the store while Gavin and I were in the lobby checking out the bargain books. Well, actually I was checking out the bargain books. Gavin was busy with the "Quacky Duck" book or whatever it was called I'd given him to play with (and bought, mind you). I had Gavin facing slightly away from me in his stroller to keep him out of the sun which was coming through the windows and making me sweat like mad. "Oh, look, a baby we can buy," the woman said upon seeing Gavin. Part of me enjoyed the attention lavished on my son, while another part of me wondered if she wasn't criticizing me for the two foot distance between me and my child while I looked at books because I am clearly a mom who loves bargains and reading more than her son (don't tell Social Services). "Well, you're going to have to buy this book for him," I said, pointing to the duck book he was chewing on. "So he'll cost you at least three bucks." They laughed and I laughed and then the woman said, "Well you come home with me and I'll spoil you. Your mom won't." I know that spoiling children is actually not a good thing, but I couldn't help but interpret this comment as another nod to Gavin's abject neglect. "Oh, I spoil him," I said as if in my defense. "And I get chastised for it." Who says that? I do, apparently. Later, on the second floor of Borders (to which we had to take the elevator since I had Gavin in his stroller. Gavin did not like the elevator at all. Though it should be noted he has been in an elevator before without incident. I, however, also don't like elevators, so this is yet another thing he probably gets from me) an elderly man and woman stooped over Gavin's stroller to coo and smile at him. He ate it up. "Are you shopping for books?" the woman asked. "We just saw this cute baby and had to say hello." Again, can't blame them. He's pretty irresistible.

I should mention that I styled Gavin's hair in a fauxhawk today using a dab of water and a dab of aloe vera gel. This made him extra irresistible. I can't believe he has enough hair to actually be manipulated. This is very exciting to me. Mind you, it was a tiny fauxhawk, but still. When I was little I was never into dolls and playing dress up. I thought Barbie was retarded, not to mention tedious (have you ever tried to pull on a pair of skin-tight polyester pants over pliable rubber legs?).

Yesterday on our walk (and by "our" I mean me, Stacy and Gavin) we were stopped by a heavy-set older man in a motorized cart who traded smiles with Gavin. He also showed us his leather legs (frost bite, Korean war). He said he had several children, one around 50, one 36, and one he'd lost last year to cancer. He then told us that the reason no cure has been found is that people keep donating money to different cancer organizations. "Stop donating and see how quick they cure you," he said. He'd spent nearly every dime on his son's medical treatment. It was a sad story. He then told us his address and offered to babysit. He said that he and Gavin could watch TV and get down on the floor and wrestle. Something tells me he is not the right babysitter for us. One: Gavin is not allowed to watch TV. Two: I don't know that this man does much wrestling, let alone getting down on the floor. I have my doubts that he'd be able to get back up unassisted. While he and Gavin have that largely in common, I don't think that's a mark in this man's favor.