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I must be scary-looking

I have a problem: Moms don't like me. Actually, they are downright petrified of me.
Let me set a scene, from today no less: Willow and I were at Kroger. Willow was snug in her car seat in the grocery cart. We were in the produce section looking for peppers when I encountered a young woman. I nodded in greeting then pushed my cart around her and headed toward the back of the store. The woman zipped past me and ran to the cart that carried her two young daughters, an infant and a 3-year-old. She then looked back at me and pushed the cart hurriedly away.
I'm used to this, having women scurry away or rein in their children whenever I approach. It's happened for years, and I acknowledge their fear in this dangerous world. Strange men are not to be trusted.
But I certainly didn't expect this to continue after Willow arrived.
I figured a father and his infant daughter might be less threatening.
Nope.
More examples:
  • A mother walking at the park in front of me with her two children let them roam freely as many as 25 yards away. As I approached, she called for the kids to come to her, held their hands, reversed direction then abandoned the path altogether, cutting across a field to the parking lot.
  • A pair of mothers at a playground repeatedly called for their children to "stay away from that man." I was "that man" pushing Willow in a baby swing.
  • A woman at a playground sees me approaching with Willow, rises from the bench and runs (yes, runs) to the slide, scoops up her two boys and heads to the car.
I've shared these stories with my wife, and she finds them odd. She has no theories (except that I match the typical vanilla description of serial killers and abductors: middle-aged, nondescript white man who stays to himself, anyone?).
My theories: I've encountered a string of coincidental exoduses or I'm sending out a nervous vibe (I'm shy talking to new people).
I must note that all the fleeing women were young mothers. I haven't had the problem with older women, grandmothers and grandfathers; they've even approached me on occasion (I've encountered only one man with a kid; he neither left nor approached me).
I'm disheartened, but I'll keep going out with Willow, to the park, to the playground and to the grocery store.
My only hope is as Willow gets older, some of these moms stick around at the playgrounds so my little girl will have some kids to play with.
I think they will, because I know Willow's charms will push her daddy's scariness, and awkwardness, into the shadows.
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