The Boy and I were at the grocery store, and I stood staring at the tiny jars and bags in the baking aisle. I hate the baking aisle when I am looking for a specific, new ingredient. All the jars and bags look the same and, inevitably, what I'm looking for ends up in another aisle altogether. The Boy was in a cheery, chatty mood, using mac-and-cheese boxes as maracas, reminding me "need yogurt, Momma, I get yogurt, Momma, get yogurt, Momma," and shouting, "Hi!" to every passing person.
Irritating to a momma looking for something she can't find. Cute to the passersby.
"Hi there!" cooed an older, grandmotherly woman who'd been enthusiastically greeted by The Boy. "Aren't you adorable? You're a good boy, aren't you!? What a good boy!"
"He is sometimes," I said, smiling wryly.
"All the time, Mommy," the woman said sternly. "He is a good boy all the time."
I know what she meant -- enjoy them while you can, this is the best time of your life and all that jazz. But oh, I wanted so badly to shove my cart at her and say, "Really? You think so? Well, take him home, and you let me know how that works out for you."
What's the most irritating, well-meaning advice you've gotten lately?