We were at Wal-Mart and passed a really sweet looking old lady on the detergent aisle. You know the one. The one that looks like a very seasoned grandmother, who with one glance you know she bakes the best pies and that anyone would adore. As we passed her, she stopped to smile and wave at him. I paused for a brief moment and encouraged him to say hello to her. "I don't like her!" he announced with a scrunched up nose and sharp eyes. Embarrassed, I shrugged my shoulders and grinned back at her, grabbed the Tide, and bee-lined it off the aisle.
Our next stop was Cosco. We were waiting in the long line at the check out. A nice looking middle-aged man stepped in line behind us. He was holding a purple orchid that I can only presume he was purchasing for his wife or mother. Either option indicates to me that he is probably a really nice man, not to be fooled by his large stature and jet black furry beard.
With a volume intended for the man to hear, Hawkins pointed his finger straight at the man and proclaimed, "He bad guy!"
Me: No, he's not. <I turned and smiled at the man> And that is not nice to say!
Hawk: He good guy?
Me: Yeah. He's a good guy. What if he thinks you are the bad guy?
The man: Nah. He's got on puppy rescue pajamas. He can't be a bad guy.
Hawkins half-smiled at him.
Hawk: I not like him!
Here he is in his puppy rescue pajamas enjoying the cinnamon churro.
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