When I was young, I tutored a young girl three or four years my junior. Over time, we drifted apart, and she became nothing but a dim memory of somebody I had once found very amiable.
I ran into her at the mall recently. I saw her first – I could’ve ignored her if I wanted; I had all the time I needed to make a U-turn.
Instead, I waved like a maniac and invited her to coffee.
In 20 minutes, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the Café Coffee Day couch, trying very (very) hard to look interested in the one-way conversation about her daughter. It didn’t help that my drink was disturbingly depressing. Each sip tasted worse than the one before.
Wow! How old is she now?
Thirteen and a half.
Years? My eyebrows shrunk to half their size as I strained to do the math.
You’ll never stop joking, will you? She threw a cushion at me, smiling. Months, baba!
I rolled my eyes at her inwardly for the rest of the evening. How does the world keep spinning with a shockingly ridiculous person who can’t discount that one odd month (and fifteen days) off her child’s age? Is it so hard to say “a year”?
I pretended to count on my fingertips (yeah, I’m mean when I want to be) and said – oh, just over a year, then. Is she walking already?
She proceeded to take me through a list of ALL the milestones her baby had achieved, and then talked at length about how she thought her baby was going to be an underperformer because she had started to talk so late.
Then she started to show me 876,297,097 pictures of Little Miss G on the inflatable chair. Little Miss G on the couch. Little Miss G eating. Little Miss G smiling. Little Miss G frowning. You get my drift.
I ran out of there a fast as I possibly could. Just when I heaved the proverbial sigh of relief, my phone buzzed.
From Little Miss G.
Fuck my life.
Do you know any such child-obssessed parents or someone who has created an entire FB profile for their baby? What are the other annoying things that people from your past do now? How many photos of your baby do you have on your phone?
14 thoughts on “of baby talk”
Oh yeah. Oh fucking yeah. A close relative shares every small thing including the kid’s snot color with me. One of these days I am going to get a stroke.
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I don’t understand this urge to share everything either. I really don’t want to know, and I dunno what I’m doing to make people think that I’m interested. Am I breathing wrong?
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Is there anything worse? Well, there are the wedding albums, but at least there is a possibility of a bikini now and then. But baby photos albums? Webpages? One or two photos is acceptable, but nothing beyond. Recently I had the dubious privilege of going through every single photo of my co-workers recent vacation. Not only did I have to view each one, but there were several versions of the same photo, from different angles. Arrrgghhhh!
Don’t even get me started on wedding & honeymoon photos. Just too much posing and too many versions of the same photo. Baby pics are far (far) cuter, and even those I can’t look at for too long.
At any rate, oversharing is an epidemic. It’s really not that hard. Why don’t people get it?
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Trust me, I know. My co-worker just assaulted me with photos of her new PET. Dozens of photos. How are you, Ana?
Aaargh! Pet? Why?
I’m swamped, Rob. I’m sure you can tell by the number of weeks I took to respond. Being a working mom is tougher than I imagined.
How are you, my friend? Haven’t been able to get caught up on your life yet. Missing the tidbits!
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I don’t know why. All I know is that I have to smile and pretend that the multitude of pictures are somehow enjoyable to look at. Yes, being a working parent is difficult. And when you catch a break, you just want to rest. No worries, my blog and tidbits are there for when you have time. 🙂
I actually don’t mind ages being referred to in months until they turn 2 just because a 1 year old who’s 13 months old and a 1 year old who’s 22 months old are developmentally remarkably different. More different than they’ll ever be within a single year. The pictures though….good grief! The point at which I’m starting to walk away, I’m not interested in your pictures anymore!
Sure, I can appreciate the need to talk about the baby’s age in months when talking to a pediatrician or someone else who might be interested in determining whether the baby is doing ok, developmentally speaking. Other than that, I’d stick to “a little over one year old” and “nearly two”, you know? I’m sure as hell not going to say my baby is 27 months old when someone’s juts being polite!
Photos – the worst ones are in a series. You move fast enough through them, it looks like a video. THAT just pisses me off.
So nice to see you here, A. I need to visit more often.
I’m with you on the sharing – I even flinch if I post something (FB) anything these days. I keep thinking that I’ll delete my account, but I stay. I stay for the babies, the puppies, and the kittens. And your photos! Girl…your photos are amazing. xo
Most people are obsessed with their children. Some are secretly obsessed, others are openly so 🙂
Other people’s pictures (1000s of them – with every 20 being almost the same pose) are a nightmare. We have this friend whose living room is a torture trap – all of their vacation pics constantly playing on a rotation basis on various electronic devices.
When I was moderately active on FB, I would unfollow anyone who inundated my feed with minute by minute updates about their life, their personal growth, and of course their amazing children:)
Hey there, unrelated comment.. But I just joined a group called Ask the Village on Facebook and noticed that your old blog picture is used as an ‘image tag’ in all anonymous posts with the caption ‘Anonymous Post’ below. Wanted to ask if this was something you were aware.
(I’m referring to the picture of you walking towards the waves with your sandals in one hand and back to the camera)
Ouch. Yes. I know. It’s me in the photo. So much for anonymity!
Haha, well as long as you know 🙂