It's late
This happens all the time:
I'm out in public with my baby. A baby-adoring sort of stranger walks up to us, saying, "I have to see the little one." Then said stranger begins to ask questions, in a high-pitched, supposedly baby-appropriate voice to the baby.
"Hello! Well aren't you cute? What's your name? Hmm, what's your name?"
And I don't answer, because the stranger is talking to the baby, right? If the stranger wants me to tell him or her what the baby's name is, he or she would ask me what the baby's name is, right? There's inevitably a moment of awkwardness during which I am punishing the stranger for being dense enough to ask a question to a person who doesn't speak, and then expect an answer to come from an entirely different person. After I feel the stranger is sufficiently punished, I usually cave and respond with the expected reply, because that's the kind of person I am (a usual caver).
Sometimes I'll respond with, "It's Norah," to which the stranger will certainly say, "Sonora?" And sometimes if the questioner is asking my baby a long series of questions, never getting the hint that I am bothered by this practice, I will smile and say, "She doesn't talk yet" and leave it at that.
Tonight this scenario happened while we were having a picnic at Tempe Town Lake. I sat on a bench with Norah, and watched the lady on the next bench over watching Norah and trying to make her laugh. Then she came over, and I was strangely drawn to and distracted by the leftover pieces of lettuce from her salad in a closed plastic container. Also, I was confused by this lady's motives. For a second, I thought she was going to try to sell me something, and for a half-second, I thought she was going to try to sell me the leftover pieces of lettuce from her salad. I was disoriented, just a bit. Then this lady started asking Norah questions. For this lady, I'm certain this encounter was entirely within her realm of normalcy, but for me, it was a little bit unsettling. I wanted to question the questioner: Do you want me to answer the question you are asking my 8-month-old? How do you want me to proceed? Are you trying to sell me something, or maybe, ask for money?
I didn't ask any questions. Norah didn't tell her her name. I did, I told the lady Norah's name. But I did not buy any lettuce bits. And the lady went on her merry way, having just been very friendly with the people on the next bench over.
I'm out in public with my baby. A baby-adoring sort of stranger walks up to us, saying, "I have to see the little one." Then said stranger begins to ask questions, in a high-pitched, supposedly baby-appropriate voice to the baby.
"Hello! Well aren't you cute? What's your name? Hmm, what's your name?"
And I don't answer, because the stranger is talking to the baby, right? If the stranger wants me to tell him or her what the baby's name is, he or she would ask me what the baby's name is, right? There's inevitably a moment of awkwardness during which I am punishing the stranger for being dense enough to ask a question to a person who doesn't speak, and then expect an answer to come from an entirely different person. After I feel the stranger is sufficiently punished, I usually cave and respond with the expected reply, because that's the kind of person I am (a usual caver).
Sometimes I'll respond with, "It's Norah," to which the stranger will certainly say, "Sonora?" And sometimes if the questioner is asking my baby a long series of questions, never getting the hint that I am bothered by this practice, I will smile and say, "She doesn't talk yet" and leave it at that.
Tonight this scenario happened while we were having a picnic at Tempe Town Lake. I sat on a bench with Norah, and watched the lady on the next bench over watching Norah and trying to make her laugh. Then she came over, and I was strangely drawn to and distracted by the leftover pieces of lettuce from her salad in a closed plastic container. Also, I was confused by this lady's motives. For a second, I thought she was going to try to sell me something, and for a half-second, I thought she was going to try to sell me the leftover pieces of lettuce from her salad. I was disoriented, just a bit. Then this lady started asking Norah questions. For this lady, I'm certain this encounter was entirely within her realm of normalcy, but for me, it was a little bit unsettling. I wanted to question the questioner: Do you want me to answer the question you are asking my 8-month-old? How do you want me to proceed? Are you trying to sell me something, or maybe, ask for money?
I didn't ask any questions. Norah didn't tell her her name. I did, I told the lady Norah's name. But I did not buy any lettuce bits. And the lady went on her merry way, having just been very friendly with the people on the next bench over.
Comments
So this is all to say that I am with you Emily. The whole post long. Even the lettuce bits.
I do kind of enjoy the fact that our kids rarely smile for strangers-- especially the ones who say that they can always get a kid to smile. I think Kristine gets a little embarassed, but I sort of smile to myself when somebody says that. They're sure to get a serious stare from our kids. Hee hee.
Abby, I'm telling you, her demeanor shouted, "I want something from you" as she approached my bench. It was Tempe Town Lake! You never know when someone might try to sell you lettuce bits when you're in Tempe!
Cjane, I knew you'd be with me on this one. Rock on.
Kiki, I think you're cool for spelling mimicking right. And for lots of other reasons.
Nate, Rebecca has yet to smile at me. I'm still working on it!
Yeah, I about smacked her.