Size matters

Yesterday I took the kids to the big playground, one of their favorite places on earth. G loves it because it has the highest proportion of fake steering wheels of any playground in our area. He starts chanting, "Drive, drive, drive!" every time we approach. Then once he has the wheel in his hands, he makes all kinds of appropriate vroooming noises. I don't know where he is going, but he is going there fast. M, daredevil that she is, heads immediately for the highest slide out of my line of vision. It's our system, and it works.

As soon as we arrived, both kids took their appointed spots and the fun began. Things were going so well until I opened my big mouth. Another little boy approached the steering wheel while G was playing. He looked to be about the same height as G with roughly the same skill set. Well, except for the fact that he was actually walking unaided. I once again made the mistake of assuming they were the same age. The conversation went like this:

VC: They look to be about the same age. And the same white-blond, curly hair too!

Other Mother: Well, they might not be the same age. My son is really, really big for his age.

VC: (eagerly) Yes, mine too. How old is he?

Other Mother: Well, he's only 23 months old.

(she pauses for me to exclaim about how her son certainly is very big)

Other Mother: How old is he?

VC: (kind of embarrassed now to respond) Uh, well...he will be 16 months old tomorrow.

Other Mother: (eyes widen in surprise) Oh!

This encounter was my fault. I have been right about one baby's age in the past year or so and I should know better than to ask. But I have had many encounters that I didn't initiate, that were brought on by someone's innocent question.

The worst example was the Japanese family at the mall play area. The mother asked me how old G was. I said that he was eleven months old and she actually ran over to her other relatives to tell them. They all came over to see the giant baby for themselves. They spent several minutes looking at him and chattering excitedly in Japanese with an occasional nod to me.

Nobody means anything by it. They have no idea how old he is when they ask and most of them go away feeling better about why he is not walking. He is admittedly one of the biggest kids around and people cannot help but be a little curious. But I have started to get a complex about it. I wonder anew about overgrowth syndromes or other issues that may be making my little guy so big. Most of them have been ruled out, but as is always the case with me, I still worry.

If only I could be sure that we were going to end up with the linebacker and not the tall guy with the cane and braces.