Third child

"I think your son just ate something. Well he put it in his mouth anyways."

I look at him under the play structure bridge. I look around him and assess the possibilities.

"Hmm. Well, whatever it was, it probably won't kill him. Right?" I ask her.

"Probably not." She says to me.

I shrug and for a split second wonder if she's judging me. Then I decide I don't care.

Later on Will wanders over to her "side" of the playground. Her little boy is standing by the stroller digging goldfish out of a giant silver bag. In my son's mind I can hear him think "I didn't think this day could get any better and then it DID!" He loves goldfish. Especially other peoples. I lazily job over to intercede in the theft of goldfish but when I get there she says to me "He's welcome to them."

I smile and thank her and point out that we have some over on our "side". I offer her kids, via her, some juice drinks. She thanks me and lets me know she has some too.

Two moms, smiling, bonding at the park over stolen goldfish and children eating debris.

"Is he your second?" she asks looking around at the other children. I can tell she's trying to figure out if any others are mine.

"My third."

She grins "That explains it."

I'm not sure if she means the eating of strange objects or the stolen goldfish. I know it's because I'm far too relaxed about either to really care though.

"The leaves, I hear, are a good source of fiber." I say.

"My boys have been eating them for years" she replies.

Some days I really love the park.