An open letter.

To the checkout lady at the grocery store:

It was nice meeting you today. We didn't exchange alot of words, but I assure you, you made an impact on me.

I noticed that you had two eyes. That's convenient. Mostly, those can be used to see things. Take my daughter for instance. She is cute. You told me so. But then you confused me. You began acting like you could not see her anymore.

Please, checkout lady, allow me to provide some back story. The shopping cart we were using had provided us with inadequate straps to hold my daughter down. Even at their longest, they could not reach around her. This is surprising, because Alex is one of the smallest almost-one-year-old's I've come across. I'm not lying. Today she wore a jumpsuit that was made for 3-6 months old. Don't worry, checkout lady. This was not your fault.

But that being said, did you not see me struggling to keep my daughter seated while we were waiting to pay? Of course you did. You had two eyes, we've already established that. And they worked, we've established that as well. But perhaps she landed right in your blind spot as she attempted again and again to launch herself out of the cart. Again, checkout lady, this was not your fault.

But...that being said... It IS your fault that you decided that it would be a great time to read each and every label on every thing of baby food before you placed it in the bag. And not only that, you thought it necessary to comment on how delicious each combination sounded, and how much my daughter must like bananas, and how you aren't sure of that mixed berry combination, and wow, apples and prunes together? The things they think of these days.

Again, child trying to launch herself out of the seat. Mother already paid and clearly getting frustrated with child who is trying to launch herself out of the seat.

There are times for small-talk. When a child is doing everything she can to do a swan dive on to the floor despite her mother's attempts to convince her otherwise.... that.... that is not the time.

Thank you.

-The woman who left tufts of hair that had been yanked out at their roots on your cash register.