The Moments I Live For?

This past weekend, my seven-year-old cousin and I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some snacks. As we were waiting in line to check out, she looked around at all of the glossy magazines near the register. (Maybe I should have been censoring what she can see, but my face was buried in "Soap Opera Digest" so that I could find out all of the "comings and goings" of my favorite stars without actually having to pay for the magazine. Reading and flipping pages that fast is quite the challenge, let me tell you, and therefore requires most of my focus.) After a few seconds, my cousin pointed to a picture of a celebrity and said, "I know her." "That's Jennifer Aniston. You've probably seen her on TV." "Oh, yeah," she responded, I suppose differentiating between people who have dinner at her house and people who are in the movies. "She's pretty, isn't she?" I said. (My conversation skills are not the best when I still have one eye on the weekly recap of "General Hospital.") "She's not as pretty as you," she answered, showing the glorious innocence of children. And, while I know this comment is not true and is colored by familial love, it still didn't give the women behind us in line the permission to LAUGH OUT LOUD. And, it certainly didn't give her permission to still be laughing THREE MINUTES LATER. As Bill Cosby taught us, children say the darndest things, but I still don't think my cousin's comment warranted quite that much mirth. Plus, if I was in a similar position, I would at least have the courtesy to wait until I was in my car to crack up. It's the nice thing to do, and it means that I don't have to be obsessing over the incident four days later. After all, I have so much else to worry about...