It has been awhile since this happened last, so I forgot how bizarrely agonizing it can be to watch someone try to guess my child’s age.

This used to happen all the time. People are so fixated on how old babies are…but not just to ask, they want to be able to guess…perhaps to show their exceptional knowledge of infant milestones and sizes.

I don’t know if people are generally good at this age guessing scenario, but I can say that–unsurprisingly–NO ONE ever guesses Esmé’s age accurately.

“She’s what….um….” And this is typically the point at which the person realizes that they are in trouble. I can see the gears turning trying to add up her size (about that of a 12-15 month old), hair length (stupendous for a 4 year old), tone (like a 6 month old on a flexible day), gaze (wise…sweet yet judgmental), speech (none), physical abilities (not walking…), teeth (impressive)

“…um…” This is about the point where I am begging them to just say “A GIRL!” and let themselves off the hook. But, usually they keep working away at it.

And then they throw some random number out there: “12 months” “18 months” “15” “120” “01”
And look vaguely like they want to run away.

In fact, in our 2 1/2 years with Ezzy THE most accurate age guess came from a nice young man who, based on his complete lack of observation before speaking, knew very little about small children…and only guessed because he was working the checkout a Macy’s and knew that this was the thing to do. Both the hubby and my jaw hit the ground when he guess so accurately with us already taking the breath before our “She is quite small and has been unwell” standard line to help people feel less uncomfortable that they have so seriously misjudged our child’s age.

Today when it happened again–perhaps because she was in our arms rather than in her awesome wheelchair–the guy, who seemed like he must be a super hands on dad-type, guessed 18 months after several agonizing pauses. The hubby and I smiled at each other and just said “She’s 2 1/2”

The man put up a valiant effort to hide his confusion with a “oh of course she is 2 1/2 and hanging upside down bent impossibly over your arm while saying “MMMMmmmmaaamaaaaa” rather than running around the store demanding “Elmo!” and trying to lick the door knob just “because”” kind of a nod.

Poor guy. I bet he’ll never guess a baby’s age again.