A cup o' and a pretty boy?

Have you ever thought that an adult going for coffee in the morning is much akin to a baby crying for a bottle? I thought about that in my haze this morning.

I woke up and immediately wanted coffee (if it were socially acceptable, I might even cry for someone to bring me hot coffee. Alas, it isn't). I stood by the pot watching it brew then happily poured my cup and took a lovely first sip. I took a deep breath and was ready for the day to begin.

In contrast, Jack woke up and (I can only imagine decided he was simply desperate for a bottle) cried for his bottle. He lunged for the bottle as it was being filled, heated and mixed and then eagerly grabbed it and drank it all, burped and gave me a big grin.

Not so different.

***

Jack and I went out to lunch today (he is such a lovely lunch companion. As long as I give him a pile of food he is happy and giggly to anyone in his presence). Anyway. A woman, who incidently was a (99%) "Pat", (ironic, no?) walked up to my table and said, "she seems to be enjoying this as much as you are". I looked around to see who she was talking about, all the while wondering why she was confiding this random bit of thought process to me, then realized I was the only woman in the place. I'm sure I gave her a puzzled look as it dawned on me that she was referring to Jack, but didn't correct her as I didn't want her to feel stupid (such a kind soul I am). I mean really, he had on a red and white long-all with a helicopter appliqued on it. He had on his blue jacket, blue paci clip and blue paci. And his blue diaper bag with the name "Jack" was on the table. I've been told he is a beautiful baby, but really. I brushed it off and forgot about it, but as we were leaving she looked up and said, "you ladies have a lovely afternoon". Blood boiling. The 2 men I was sitting near looked at her like she was crazy, for which I was thankful. Urgh.