Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth.

a little girl steps up to the table

dwarfed by the shorts she is wearing,

swimming in a shirt marked C(ulver)

like the C is attempting to consume the rest of the word and become a trademark

in and of itself,

but here she is, adorable in every way shape and form

pushing a cart bigger than she is, in size, capacity, and weight.

we scan, check, bag, and perform before an innocent, slightly glazed stare

she mutely signs the reciept, agreeing to charge 574.38 to her account.

minutes later we encounter her mother,

well-maintained, accented English, designer purse, mother-bear protectiveness-

in a word, terrifying.

yes, she did get her aqua shoes. shin guards. t-shirts. they’ll fit for two years.

please, ma’am, don’t eat us.

and gradually she moves on to another part of the registration process, little girl in tow

and my brother looks at me.

“so cute.”