While I contemplated my thirst, mentally throwing daggers into the heads of all the people over age 18 in front of me, I noticed a little girl in front of me; she was holding her Dad's hand (I know this, because she kept squealing "Daddddddddy...I want a tooooyyyyyy!") and she was dancing a squirming, pulling his arm this way and that, until she practically had it wrapped around his legs three times.
She was annoying the crap out of him, and that amused me.
He finally sighed hard and crouched beside her, and asked "Do you remember what I said would happen if you didn't behave?"
"What did I say?" he prompted.
"That you'd get so mad your head would 'splode."
"And what happens if that happens?"
"I get so scared that I'll turn all white like Casper the ghost."
"Even your hair," he said, touching her straight jet black hair. "Do you want that to happen? Do you want me to get so mad my head explodes and that scares you so much you turn as white as a ghost?"
She tilted her head a touch, as if considering, and then said simply, "Yes."
I stifled a bubble of laughter, and Dad stood up, knowing he lost the battle. Still, she stopped squirming, too busy laughing to bother with turning Daddy into a human pretzel; she got her Happy Meal, and they sat down at a table, where she chattered nonstop the rest of the time I was there.
I was disappointed, though, because I would have liked to see Dad's head explode, too.