Making Friends

I took Eva up to visit my Grandparents, who live an hour away in Orange County. It's amazing to know that they have survived to enjoy their great-grandchildren, and that our family has four generations of daughters alive at the same time. Eva is a hit wherever she goes. Strangers on the street offer congratulatory smiles and a barrage of questions. How old? Boy or girl? (Is the pink outfit not enough to clue them in?) What's her name? How much does she weigh? And the inevitable remark, "Look at all that hair!" I don't mind so long as strangers don't try to run their fingers through it. I was at David's work and one of the residents admiringly reached over to touch her hair when I caught a whiff of her incontinence. I have great compassion for these little old ladies, but I don't want someone’s dirty hands on her. It made me cringe to think about it. I've found that when I carry Eva in a sling, no one asks to hold her. So I use that strategy often when I take her out.