Trail chat

I typically exercise caution around people who are carrying on conversations when no one else is around them. Such people are often unstable, and it’s best to avoid eye contact, so I do. However, sometimes it turns out these people have little phone thingies attached to their ears. Then I know they are tools, but otherwise (probably) harmless.

So, what does this have to do with me and babies? (Because weren’t we talking about babies around here?) Right, so, this morning, during one of my plodding little attempts at running, I suddenly burst out with, “Oh, look, baby, this is tree rain! It happens in the redwoods on cool, misty mornings like this. It feels like it’s raining and it makes puddles on the trail, but it’s not real rain. I don’t really know much about the phenomenon, but your dad probably does. We’ll ask him to tell us about it when we get home.” And then we do.

I am not exaggerating. I know you wish I were, but I’m really not. I said all of that to the baby this morning. Then I pointed out how nice the redwoods are, and how the baby is lucky to live in such a neat place.

Then we got to the part of the trail where it’s downhill, and the oak (are they oak?) trees drop their seed pods. I told the baby how Sarah J worries that I will fall on this part, so we have to go slowly, so that we don’t get ourselves into trouble with her.

Then we get to one of my favorite views, and I tell the baby how I love this view, though I don’t really know why, because it isn’t, like, the best view ever.

And yes, I am still doing all of this audibly.

It’s probably worth sharing at this point that, in my running clothes, I don’t look remotely pregnant. Even if you knew me, you wouldn’t notice a belly. So I can’t even pass as the cute pregnant lady who regales her fetus with interminable chatter. Would that even be cute? I’m not sure.

At least I’m not some tool with a Bluetooth.