Onwards and Upwards

Another lift story, slightly shorter than the last one.

I'm already in the lift with J at the local department store. He is alert and looking around. A mother steps in with her little girl in a pushchair.

She looks at me and then looks down at J looking up at her. There is no preamble.

Lift Mother: He looks just like you doesn't he?

Pause

Me: Do you know that's the first thing anyone says?

The rest of the lift's rise continues in silence. The doors open. Exit me, quickly.  

It's not that I don't mind the comment, but when it's the only thing that gets said...

The Incredible Likeness of Being

Sometimes I let my thoughts out into the open...

Me: So when he comes out, he's going to look like me, right?
W: He might look more like me.
Me: May be, but some things I've read suggest otherwise.
W: (concerned) What?
Me: (authorative, then confused) That babies tend to look more like their Dads because... because... cavemen once...
W: Cavemen?
Me: There was a study and everything...
W: Of cavemen?
Me: No, more recently. You wouldn't get much out of a cavemen study. Yes or no grunts possibly. Plus how do you even start the study without a front door to knock on?
W: Of course, all good studies start with a knock at the door....
Me: You know what I mean.
W: I think so...
Me: If you spend most of your time being a big gruff hunter-gatherer, you've got little downtime and need to know at a moment's notice that you're prepared to look after your offspring.
W: Cavemen... downtime...?
Me: I'm just saying that it's just one of those things.

Pause as we park that aspect of the conversation

W: I've seen your baby photos - you look a little startled.
Me: And in yours, you look a bit frowny.
W: Great, a frowny, startled baby.
Me: With hair.
W: No hair!
Me: I think that one's a wait and see...