"Are You Talking to Me?"
Melissa and I are going to become parents on or about the winter solstice this year which puts us (well, her actually, I'm just the support network at this point) about twenty weeks along. Far enough that the little critter has finished building most of the basic structure and is starting to fine-tune the muscles and the sensory organs.
We're out for a walk along the water at Point Defiance this morning, and there aren't many walkers on the path. I'm lost in thought and I hear her voice. "Is that your foot?" she keeps asking. We've been just a pair long enough that I know she isn't prone to talking to herself which means she is talking to me. And her question causes me no end of confusion. My feet are on the ground. We're walking, after all. I'm not touching her or kicking her or lashing her with my shoelaces. In no way are my feet anywhere near her.
Then it hits me that she isn't talking to me. Once a duo, now a trio. The little half-baked rascal can hear us and, apparently, it can move now too.