Adult Conversation

 

I was at the public library for a mommy and me story time when I overheard two moms, who clearly had neither seen nor spoken to another adult in a dangerously long time, having a conversation.

It went like this:

Mom 1: “I took Christopher to a music class and the teacher sang the saddest song to the kids! It was about 5 little ducks that went out and then one by one they disappeared, even though the mommy duck was calling for them.”

Mom 2: “I think I’ve heard that one. So the ducks are just missing?”

Mom 1: “Yes, it doesn’t say how long they are gone for, but they all just start disappearing, and I guess it has something to do with numbers and counting, but there really has to be a better, less disturbing way of doing that.” Her son was chewing on the corner of the diaper bag, while simultaneously putting his hand down his pants, clearly traumatized.

Much to my delight, they continued.

Mom 1: “In the end she calls for them one more time, because by this time they all are gone. I mean, I almost couldn’t take it anymore, what would you do?”

Mom 2: Hands on her face, without the slightest touch of sarcasm in her voice, “Do they come back? Please don’t tell me they get eaten or something.”

Mom 1: With a big sigh of relief she says, “Yes, all 5 make it back safely.”

 Charlotte's version of story time

Charlotte's version of story time

Alert the media the fictitious ducks from the children’s nursery rhyme are in fact safe and sound. When no one popped out and said they were recording this for some sort of reality show that documented moms that have gone off the deep end, I quickly picked up Charlotte and side stepped the cloth diaper versus regular diaper landmine and plopped ourselves down among the smiley moms discussing the World Series. We just spent 40 minutes reading, singing, and counting with our children; adult conversation is not a crime.

When your tiny human is only capable of saying 5 syllables the bar for discussion topics is set unreasonably low. But I can tell you that if I forget to laugh and become emotionally distraught over the lyrics to a children’s song that playfully teaches number sequencing, that means I’ve gone over to the dark side of the reading circle. I’ll need my fellow cynical yet milk bottle half full moms to come rescue me. The code phrase will be Duck Massacre.