Hey Baby

Last night I went to a party at a friend of Margie's in San Marcos. I wish I'd brought Katie and Anna (Eric's at his grandma's for the weekend) - they really would have had a lot of fun. There were a lot of kids there. And babies.

Babies are fairly appealing creatures in my book, although I don't tend to get all gooey over them (except of course my own, but that's different). But last night I met a baby who I thought was pretty much the embodiment of everything a baby should be - except that she was wearing a disposable diaper. Yuck! But otherwise, perfect.

She was tiny, but walking well. Her mom said the baby was almost 13 months old. None of mine walked that early - and Anna at 13 months was probably about half again as big, too - so I'm not really used to seeing extremely small people zooming about in an upright position. I had sat down on the grass, watching my sister & Grady playing on his backyard stage (he has the coolest house ever), when I felt a tiny hand on my shoulder and found myself face to face with this adorable little creature smiling shyly at me. So I smiled back, and talked to her for a minute, and she toddled off to explore something else.

Then a few moments later I looked up to see her, beaming at me, arms outstretched, barrelling towards me at a high rate of speed. I didn't have time to move my wineglass out of the way, so she knocked it into my lap and landed on top of it, giggling. I've never enjoyed having wine spilled on me so much before.

For the next fifteen minutes or so she kept doing this: she'd wander off, then dive-bomb me from several feet away, landing in my lap, putting her head down on my shoulder, hugging me, giving me little baby kisses. I was completely besotted.

She was a pretty fearless and inquisitive little creature, wandering around the house and backyard freely, though when she saw the chickens on stage (it was the kind of party where fat happy chickens have the run of the place - you know, one of those) she got a little nervous. Those chickens were about as big as she was. Still, her mom remarked that it wasn't like her to be quite as affectionate with strangers as she was being with me, so I was terribly flattered. Then again, the baby's a nursling, and I was wearing a very low-cut top; so I probably looked something like Thanksgiving dinner from her perspective.

Later, when I was in the kitchen pouring myself another glass of wine, some fellow partygoers complimented me on her. "Your baby is so cute," they said.

"That is not my baby," I replied.

"Oh - are you a relative, a friend of the family?" they asked me.

"I swear, I've never seen that baby before in my life."

And there was plenty of live music, and some interesting conversations, and a friendly orange cat, and a powdered miniature doughnut fight (those things make excellent ammo, but I don't recommend eating them), and a couple of turns on stage singing with Margie and Lauren, but the baby was definitely the highlight of the evening. She had arrived in a bike trailer pulled by her mom; shortly before I left I saw the little one sacked out, sleeping soundly in her little cart. "And she's portable, too!" I said to Margie.

My babies are still sleeping, the lazy bums. I should go wake them up, perhaps by lobbing doughnuts at them.