This week, as my children are out of town, I have spoken with them on the phone several times; once in public. I was at Target minding my own business when I ran into 3 single childless teachers that I work with. About that time, my husband rang to fill me in on bedtimes, eatings, and attitudes. He soon, as is our habit passed the phone to my son. Which is fine, and I love. I love hearing his sweet voice, and he really thinks of funny things to say on the phone, but I can only imagine what I sound like to passers by. A freaking idiot, that’s what. Imagine a high pitched, happy voice, “Hi buddy, what did you do today? Oh you pooped, good job buddy, your such a good boy, oh yes you are…” and the conversation continues as long as the kid sees fit often consisting of random thoughts of play and songs. For some reason, I also feel the need to speak louder than usual when on the phone with him, too. I really don’t do baby talk, but it is definitely a different voice than I use with my husband. When the kids are home, I am very likely to hand the phone to Ollie to let him talk to the caller. I am sure, too that the caller is thinking, acckkk, a conversation with a 3 year old. On the phone….. But, alas, I cannot help myself; I really am amused with his thoughts.