The Weird Kid

I am not in this picture. But please to note the staggering awesomeness of my television. THAT, my friends, is a genuine DVD player sitting beneath it. Don't be embarrassed if you haven't heard of it. It is a relatively new technology. Oh yeah.

Jesus God. Babies. Babies everywhere. The air thick with the breath of babies.

The trick, I have been told, to a successful party, is the guest list. Inviting people who will help their hostess by entertaining each other. This works well with toddlers. They stand face to face and scream laughter. "I see you have a nose. I also have a nose. NOSES!!!"

A ball pit helps, too.

Their parents, that complicates. I only know so many people with babies, and they don't much know each other. Despite mostly similar backgrounds and interests, they didn't talk much. I circulated among the parents, holding 8 loose conversations at once. I don't know if the parents had fun. But I like to believe I get credit for entertaining their babies as lavishly as I could afford (plastic balls in a kiddie pool, goldfish crackers, wine coolers).

I was grateful to my mother, who knows no such thing as social discomfort, projecting her perpetual cheer from my couch. Today, driving my mother toward her home, she was pinching and swirling the air looking for a word. "Your friends are...they're..." she exhaled, then mumbled a word.

I turned to her. "Did you just say, 'high-faluting'? Did you just call the parents at the party, 'high-faluting'?" And I laughed. Really, really hard, because I have never head that word used in earnest.

She didn't mean it insulting, just didn't know a good synonym for "librarians".

Ah but I was flattered. I have worked so hard, so long, to be considered at home in a high faluting crowd. My next goal is to personally achieve high faluting status, for myself.

I think my DVD player is a magnificent first step.