I don't know if you guys know this about me,
but I'm something of an introvert. Left to my own devices I hardly ever leave the house and my husband knows that if I don't get any time to myself I will get truly unbearable. At the same time it's important for me to get out and interact with people so I don't turn into Grey Gardens. Fortunately I have the knitting community to keep me social. Pasha and I are regular fixtures at Warm N Fuzzy and every few weeks I meet up with friends for coffee and knitting.
Today was a coffee day. Which is awesome because I am running dangerously low on coffee but don't want to go to the store again this week -- I'm a bit of a shut-in, remember? I already used up my crowd quota on Trader Joe's this weekend. Anyway, our morning started a bit rough at 2am, so by the time I pulled into the parking lot after 9:30 I was more than ready for some caffeine and laughter.
I settled Pasha in with the ladies, ordered my almond milk latte (I'm off dairy right now, which is oh so fun), and pulled out my knitting.
We are talking and laughing, Pasha is being especially adorable, the caffeine is finally taking hold. And then in walks a group of moms and toddlers. I exchange that knowing smile that all moms of young children seem to share and continue knitting as they set up at a nearby table. And then a few more moms and kids come in. And then more. Before you know it we are surrounded.
Now, I used to work at a children's museum and I'm the mother of an infant. I am well aware that it is hard to go out in public with small kids and am fully supportive of families in the wild. However, these kids were loud. They were driving matchbox cars across the floor and shouting to one another. It was already to the point I could not hear everything that was said in our group when the musical instruments started to appear.
Turns out that we had somehow stumbled into a regularly scheduled musical performance. This woman in an appropriately wacky outfit shows up every week with her sound equipment and tons of cymbals, tambourines, and other noisy things, and proceeds to put on a show for a packed house of two and three year olds. I'm sure it's really fun if you are expecting it, but when you are not it is something more akin to being overrun by hordes of medieval barbarians.
Needless to say, Pasha immediately started crying, my headache instantly returned, and we all just decided to vacate the premises. I had been toying with the idea of enrolling us in a baby music class when he is old enough but I'm pretty sure this is one of those moments that will come back to haunt him in therapy one day. Maybe we can find a class for babies who love NPR podcasts instead.