14. The age of my only child.
Tonight at dinner, at a table adjacent to ours, an upset pre-toddler cried most of the time. Basically, through his family’s dinner and ours. I asked Loinfruit to run to the car for my phone, and while she was away, I got up and went over to the cryer’s mother.
She started apologizing immediately but stopped when I said her child’s crying had moved to me to tears. (Which it had.)
I said her baby was lovely, the crying was not upsetting at all, and, that I was bittersweetly envying her ability to pick up and comfort her child. It is really wonderful, when they are so little, you can just pick them up and solve a world of discomfort and ills.
Then I told her that my “baby” is 14 and she barely speaks whole sentences to me let alone lets me give her a hug. “Lady, you are so lucky!”
We had a good laugh as did the other adults at their table. Loinfruit came back then as if on cue, stopped and said, “Oh, geez, mom…are you telling her how much you like her baby?”
Yes, and how much I love my own who is 14.