Where have my instincts gone?

The other day I was sitting with a friend having lunch in a cafe. We had the window seat, so I was naturally preoccupied gazing through the glass at passersby outside. Have you ever noticed how people-watching has the the same hypnotic effect as a TV? That was me, tuning out my friend, focusing on the strangers yonder.


A couple strolled by arm in arm, gazing into each other's eyes in (nauseatingly?) dreamy ecstasy. My eyes trailed them down the block, until at the other end they suddenly split apart and broke into vehement and bitter argument.

Then came a man, talking alound to himself, and gesturing agitatedly at the imaginary person in his head. I thought he was schizophrenic. So, apparently, did the woman passing by him, who nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly spun around and exclaimed something in her direction. Turned out he was talking to someone on a cellphone, using a bluetooth device. Yeesh, what is it with those clowns?!

This was followed by a young mother, pushing before her a young baby in a pram. Just as she passed the cafe where we were seated, she bumped into someone she knew, and paushed to chat in the sidewalk. Distractedly, she parked the pram to the side, so that the baby was directly facing me.

A big, golden, cherub of a baby, complete with twinkling eyes and dimpled knees. Gurgling away to itself in self-contentment. Through the window, I waved and smiled at it; less than a foot away from me (but on the other side of the glass), it let out a gleeful chuckle. I waved some more; I wiggled my fingers and scrunched my nose; the baby shrieked with delight. It's face glowed with a beatific (albeit toothless) smile.

I felt a trill of primeval, instinctual memory surge through my body. A stirring in my heart and stomach, and I thought - I have a real connection with this baby. This is my maternal instinct, finally kicking in!

I made another series of faces at the baby - some of which, I have to concede, had no dignity in them whatsoever. There was a lot of tongue, eye, ear and finger contortion I am now embarrassed to relate in any additional detail. My friend rolled his eyes in mockery. "You look ridiculous," he pointed out. But such comments didn't faze me, this was, after all, my moment of epiphany. Finally, a baby who liked me!

More faces. More giggling and clapping (from the baby, not me).
More faces. More giggling.
More faces.
But then the mum wheeled the baby away, and it was a heart-breaking farewell, between two long-lost soulmates.

When we had finished up lunch and as we exited the restaurant, I turned on the sidewalk for a last glance at where the baby had been. And suddenly I looked in horror. From outside, the window was mirrored. The baby had been smiling at itself, not me. It couldn't even see me!!

I was mortified. My friend smirked.

Sigh. Oh well, I guess there's still a ways to go before those maternal instincts kick in after all, eh.