News flash: Not only can babies not tell time, they don’t give a crap about time changes. Thus my little bundle of joy was up at 5. And because he’d also been up at 2, he was a bit less of a joy than usual.
And so I deployed one of my failsafes: I took the crabby baby to the grocery store. Between all the stuff to look at and all the people to say hi to, it never fails to buy me an hour of happy baby time. This time, it also brought unexpected boons.
On the drive there, I pass the second-largest urban park in the country: Forest Park, currently drenched in full-on postcard-level fall color. This morning around 6:30, it was also frosted and foggy and an utter work of art.
As much as I cringe at the amount of money we spend at Schnucks, I adore several of the checkout people, and one in particular. He was working one of the two lanes that were open, so I headed for his register. He noticed that the baby was not in top form (he’s given us enough stickers to know) and made a remark about how parents can always tell then their kids aren’t feeling well. Then he leaned in and said something so softly I couldn’t hear it. The second time, I got it. “I used to smoke pot.” He looked to both sides. “My mom always knew, and I never understood how she knew. Then when I had my own kids, I could always tell by their eyes when they weren’t right. I finally figured out how she did it!”
That story had me chuckling all the way home. And I took the long way home, through the park, since it was still very pretty. Supertramp’s “Long Way Home” came on the radio (the baby demands music in the car, and I am happy to comply). I had my hazards on because I was dilly-dallying, and I passed a car pulled over, with its passenger door open and three of the four passengers out of the car, running across a meadow with actual cameras in pursuit of the best remaining shots of the frost and mist. And I swear I am not making this up: They were all Asian.
Just before I made the turn away from the park I passed a few enormous trees with rays of misty sun filtering through to the ground. I was gobsmacked enough and tired enough to cry just a bit, and then I thought, wow, I would have missed all these amazing, funny, gorgeous things if not for the time change. And a baby who doesn’t give a crap about it.
Mama-Come-Lately 