K. is here, dressed down today in a T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops. She has redone her toes and now has tiny flowers painted on the nail of each big toenail, a detail that fascinated AJ into lying prone on the driveway in a gesture of abject adoration in order to get a closer look. She was early. She brought her own lunch. She brought AJ a toy car that has already put on some substantial mileage skidding around the floor of his room. We have a Lexus parked in our driveway.

�Should we be worried that the babysitter drives a nicer car than we do?� remarked my husband. �No,� I said. �It�s AJ who should be worrying � it�s her dad�s car.�

I once heard someone remark that you can feel like a hip, young parent only until the babysitter arrives. Alas, it�s true. She�s out in the yard playing with AJ, apparently unconscious of the fact that delivery vans and landscape trucks halt at the stop sign in front of our house just a little bit longer than is appropriate to check her out. I am in the basement scrubbing stains out of the knees of AJ�s jeans. Really, there is no such thing as a hip parent. And that�s probably just as well.

K. remarked this morning that her mother had her when she was 18. That would make her mother a year older than I. I find it hard to imagine, being the parent of a college student at this point in my life.

I had an easier time handing AJ off this morning than I thought. He was mostly anxious that I stop talking with his new friend so he could have her all to himself. I realized when I got down to the basement that I had forgotten to turn off the baby monitor, which I still use when I�m working down here so I can hear when AJ wakes up from naps two stories up. Although part of me wanted to listen in, I knew in my heart that was a total breach of privacy and managed to turn it off. It is so quiet upstairs. Tomorrow I need to get out.

[Yesterday's entry was made pretty late in the day -- click back if you missed it]

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