An open letter to the lady whose little daughter stopped breathing at Target:
I'm really sorry I just stood there. You see, your kid looked fine to me and I didn't realize what was going on until a couple of moments later when I overheard the dressing room attendant on the phone saying "I have a little girl who stopped breathing at the Target in x."
Perhaps, I should have noted the panic in your voice and asked you if you needed help.
Not perhaps, pretty much for sure.
So. Sorry I didn't.
I heard your daughter is allright. I'm glad.