Oh for cute...

One of the perks of halloween is being able to hand candy out where I work. Here in the midwest, snow for trick or treating is not unusual. To accomodate years such as that, the mall I work in has a couple hours dedicated for the kiddles to come around in costume and ask for candy from the retailers. Its fun for everyone and it keeps the munchkins warm.
Typically, I'm not really kid-friendly. With the exception of my nephew, kids make me a little stressed out and I just don't know how to interact with them. While I sometimes wonder if this is a sign I'm a sociopath, I think the realistic explanation is I'm just not that mother type. At any rate, my boss decided to give me the job of handing out the candy and interacting one on one with the lil noseminers. I spent a good two hours acting cheerful and talking in what I've mocked as "the mother octave"- that high, singsong voice that comes over women when they're talking to children. It gave me a headache. After being tsunami-ed with cuteness for a couple hours, I came to realize something. The idea of having children becomes less fearful with one simple thought. If I could put them in a cute little frog or lion costume for thier entire childhood life, I think I could handle it. Granted, they would be bitter and maladjusted adults but by god, I think I could handle them if they were cute, cuddly, and in a sugar coma for most of the time. Its a thought.