A young mother and her adorable toddler sat one table over, waiting for her friends. When the child noticed her mother rearranging the packets of cane sugar, pink sweetener, blue sugar substitute, and pale yellow whatever the heck that is sweetness (?) which the infant had strewn about, she helped. Meaning the task took ten times longer.
The tyke smiled at her own accomplishment.
Truly a perfect job. So ... neat.
Charming.
Yeah, okay, good natured two year old, lovely features, sparkly eyes, willing to chip in and do what the adult at the table seemed to think was necessary and important. Sweet.
I hate it when I react positively to such things. Instinct.
It conflicts with my grumpier nature.
Despite painfully bumping her head when toppling over, the child did not make the usual fuss one expected. It hurt, yes, but she was easily distracted when the two other adults arrived, and that made both the shock and the ache subside. At least, I think so.
Many of the non-tourist non-Chinese in that area tend to be disturbed individuals with rich inner lives whom one would rather not know very well. Turbulent minds in rapid transit.
I miss the day and age when the price of a cup of coffee kept the other side at arms distance. They seldom entered the bakeries or coffee shops. Now that one must enjoy tobacco outside, it puts one closer to the eyes of the storm, so to speak.
Public spaces are battle arenas.
All my errands are run, and I didn't feel like going somewhere for teatime. My feet felt cold. So I went home and read instead. Merely a two pipe day.
Might go out for a smoke later.
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