E. and I are trading news, news of classrooms, news of her family and mine, news of when are we going to shut down the K again, news about more places for us to laugh ourselves silly, when she spots the baby carriage.
"I need to hold a baby, " she announces, heading straight for this son of a friend. The friend smiles as E. picks up the infant, continuing her conversation with yet another friend. E. carries the baby over to me.
"You're a mess."
I shake my head, but I'm laughing. I'm usually laughing hanging out with E., often until my sides positively ache.
Then I see E.'s eyes zero in on something behind my left shoulder. I turn to see another mother with a very small infant.
"I want to switch babies," E. says matter-of-factly. "That baby's younger."
"You cannot just go swapping out babies, E. Just smell a baby head and get over it already."
"I will not!" She's pure indignation as she puts the first baby back in his carriage and heads over to swoop up the new and improved baby, as his mother laughs.
"Anyway, Lucy, " she continues as if we haven't just spent five minutes shopping for the right baby for her to hold. And the conversation keeps going, twirling crazily around the past escapades and the future adventures of E. and Me.