Cute is deadly

I saw the cutest thing yesterday at the bowling alley. There was this pudgy little boy, not more than four years old, tops, and he was too small to do anything but heft the ball with both hands, scoot up and roll it down the lane. It was one of the most adorable things ever. I love kids. I even love kids who wear those little squeaky shoes, you know, the kind that sound like someone stepped on a rubber duck everytime they take a step (although who knows, after twelve hours of it, I might get homicidal, never tried it yet). I always thought that it would be interesting to study why is it that almost anything a child does is just downright lovable, whether it's making a mess eating their strained carrots or ripping a valuable book to shreds. Then I found out that there really is a "science of cuteness" and basically, like a lot of stuff, cuteness is an evolutionary thing. We're more likely to help and support something if we view it as charming and helpless, rather than...I don't know, a loud, obnoxious, pooping, energy-depleting, time-sucking hog. I guess the same can be said of the person you fall in love with, although kids can never be accused of using their cuteness to manipulate you. You can forgive any and all faults in a lover - untrustworthiness, laziness, compulsive lying, messiness, etc. Any anger you may have evaporates in the light of their smile. I readily confess that I get angry very easily, that it doesn't take much to set me off, to send me flying off in a huff, but no matter what Mr. Heartbreaker did, all it took was one sheepish grin, and I'd melt. I always forgave him, for everything, even though he never once said "I'm sorry" without prompting and sometimes, even spun it so I was the bad guy. One look from him, one word - and I was his for the taking. I still am, and that scares me. He's so...cute, for lack of a better word. I think his cuteness will be the death of me.

Final thought: Cute is such a mild word, but don't be fooled. It's deadly.