And then babies. We are almost never in a hurry anywhere, so we totally don't mind when people stop us to coo at Eleanor and squish her feeties, which they do all the time. Only, unless I have her entirely in pink, they'll be like, Your baby boy is so darling. And I'm just like, Thanks, because they're being sweet and whatever, she does kind of look like a boy.
But even dressing her in frills and bows doesn't always help. A woman the other day told me that he was adorable, even though this was us:
So close, strange woman. Then another woman, who wasn't even OLD, she was, like, in her 40s, and had no vision problems that I could see, got right down in Eleanor's face and was like, You have the most beautiful blue eyes! To which:
And then the other day an old Chinese man stops me to read my baby's face, like a Victorian phrenologist. Apparently her large brow means she will be intelligent, which is kinder than saying THAT CHILD WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIND HATS THAT FIT, which is what I say to her a lot. And then he said her eyes were pure and sincere, which is about the nicest thing in the history of ever.