The Use of Cuteness

I don't have a shred of cuteness.
Or rather, I don't understand my own "cuteness."

So, if I ever try to be cute, it's such a difficult task that I'm at a loss. Besides, since a situation where I absolutely must be cute never arises, my meager amount of cuteness just continues to deteriorate.

However, the other day, I unexpectedly ended up having to activate my cuteness.

When I was asked what I wanted to eat for dinner, I really wanted tsukemen. But if I just said "I want tsukemen," it would likely be drowned out by the kids' loud voices and wouldn't be chosen.

It's childish to compete with volume. As an adult, how could I get my request accepted? This wasn't the time for a presentation. And just saying it with more pressure wouldn't guarantee they'd listen.

The decision-making power lies with my husband. There's only one way to move his heart.

I mobilized every shred of cuteness inside me. My husband is weaker to cute than he is to sexiness. Amidst the children shouting "Sushi!" at the top of their lungs, the only way to stand out was to compete with cuteness.

Maybe the true purpose of cuteness is something else. But I decided that, for me, this was the best way to use it.

Alright, now is the time.

Total concentration, Breath of Love. Cuteness!

"I want to eat tsukemen."

I put the maximum amount of cuteness I could muster into my voice. I held my husband's hand and looked into his eyes with moist, glistening ones. For some reason, he flinched. I gave it one more push.

"I want to eat tsukemen."

I said it cutely, without breaking eye contact.

"O-okay. Today, it's tsukemen."

──Yes! A total victory.

The kids were grumbling because their requests weren't heard, but they eventually accepted it since it was my wish.

And so, I was able to get the tsukemen I had been craving.

By gathering all the cuteness within me, I was able to get what I wanted. I can only say it was the best.

The tsukemen I ate after going through all that was the most impactful flavor of the year.