My daughter has turned me into a Southerner

I admit- Boston roots run deep and they're hard to kill. I have some Bostonian things that will stay with me forever (like my renewed energy in the winter and my discouraged feelings in the hot, humid summers), but there's one that's been forced out of me thanks to my loving daughter.
In Boston, shopping is a job- you go in, go out, and talk to as few people as possible just to be able to make your tasks quicker. You rarely ever see people conversing in the line just to talk. And conversations with the cashier are only on a necessary basis. I don't want to make it sound like we're rude or have no personality, but it's just how we function up there, and it works.
Now that I've lived in this area for more than a few years now, I realize that there is such a mix of people since everyone tends to be transplants, so my serious shopping demeanor usually fits in wherever I go. And it hasn't been a problem for me. I haven't had to change.
But Evie, on the other hand, has not been hardened by her mama's ways. She sees shopping as her social time- her time to interact with every person that she comes in contact with. When I was pregnant with her, and in her young newborn stage, I got used to the sweet old ladies commenting on my pregnancy or my adorable baby, and I enjoyed that attention. But now that Evie is a semi-functioning conversationalist, she forces me to talk to all the people that are just like me: the serious shoppers who don't want to have any unnecessary conversations. Those are the people that she zeroes in on, and she will call to them from across the aisle, "Hello Person. Hello Boy. Hello Girl." (and, by the way, she doesn't always get the genders right). And if they ignore her, she yells even louder, and will turn to me and say, "Mommy, Hi People, Hi People" like she's telling me that she's saying Hi and they won't say Hi back. When finally they do crack a smile and come out of their serious shopping mode, she's content until she sees the next person with their noses in a shopping list, and she'll go after them.
This is my life in a grocery store. But I've come to really enjoy it. I usually try to make sure I'm not in a huge rush so that I can watch my daughter enjoy the thrill of the chase, and then I try hard to come up with some witty small talk with that person in hopes that my daughter can change their serious natures as well.
It's fun now, and it has changed me, but I do dread the day when her observations of people turn into quite embarrassing situations (like comments on weight, appearances, skin color, etc.). We've already had one of those, but looking back, I'm more proud of her response than embarrassed.
I was holding Evie's hand as we were walking through town, and we passed a group of people waiting in line for a restaurant. One of the men there had a scruffy dark beard and dark, longish, wavy hair. Evie immediately started jumping up and down and excitedly yelling, "Look, Mommy, Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!" And she didn't stop yelling. I was literally pulling her by the hand so that we could pass the group, but she kept turning around, pointing, and yelling, "Jesus!" She was so excited she couldn't contain herself. And while at the time I was embarrassed and wanted the scene to be over, I'm thrilled that Evie was even more excited to "see" Jesus than to see Santa Claus. At this age, that's something to be proud of!