I hate Mondays. Every Monday that comes around I always remember that episode of Garfield where he’s trying to get away from Monday so he books a ticket to fly to another country to get away from that dreaded day. That’s how much I hate Mondays. So I wake up this morning and I’m greeted by a gray sky that decided to HAMMER it down with rain the second I got out of the house. Nice. Several train problems and it’s proving to be a miserable start to the day.

That all changed the second I got my station and I got off along with a mother and her 2 or 3 year old daughter in a pram. We both arrive at the stairs at the same time so I offer to help her up the stairs, for which she thanks me and accepts my offer.

The second we get to the top of the stairs the little girl started blowing me kisses and that was me, I nearly melted then and there. I’ve seen a lot of sweet things but that was arguably the single most adorable thing I’ve seen in a good long while and suddenly Monday wasn’t so bad any more.

I wish all Mondays started off like that, maybe I wouldn’t hate them as much.