So, we are hanging out at home with Britton, her chewing on cups, and the hub and I desperately searching for something to do. And since Britton decided she wasn't going to take an afternoon nap, we packed up the car and went to Babies 'R Us. We finally got our coupon for a free box of diapers, and Babies 'R Us is the only local store that carries her formula. Check Britton out in her Floppy Seat, courtesy of Grandma and Grandpa!
We got in there, picked up a new teether, some baby lotion, some cooling vapor baby wash for Britton's cold, formula, and diapers. We got into line, where we encountered some "crunchies." Sure, I could come up with better names for these draft-dodgers faster than you can spell "Birkenstock," but suffice it to say these people were au naturel hippies.
And the dad, "Granola Guy," goes, "Your baby is around 8 months old, right?" I turn around and say, "She's 9 months old." And he goes, "Our baby is 8 months old and he looks about the same size as her. He's in the 75th percentile for height."
I reply, "Yeah, she's tall too. She's in the 95th percentile. She's a little over 29 inches tall."
And Granola Guy looks at his wife in disbelief, and proceeds to stare down every inch of Britton, even craning his neck to see her legs hanging out of the cart. He then gives us a look and says, "Really? She doesn't look that tall. 95th percentile, huh?"
Then his wife, in soothing voice and no bra, goes, "Honey, she's a girl. The percentiles are different than the ones for boys. Girls don't have to be as tall to get a high percentile. And she's a whole month older than him."
Then Granola Guy gets huffy and goes, "Well, I guess all that matters is that they hit their milestones, right? Right?!"
The hub and I left that line for another, leaving Granola Guy and his wife to deal with the fact that they were competing with perfect strangers in line at Babies 'R Us about baby heights.
Why does it matter? Why look for opportunities to try and brag about your baby's height as if it were an achievement? Did he really need to be validated that his son, at all his 8 months of age, was the best at something, even if it were height? I'm calling shenanigans, people. How about this - if it matters so much to you, don't bring it up in random conversation where your whole Saturday will get ruined. Or better yet, get over it. Percentiles don't really mean anything, other than in comparison to your own baby's previous measurements. Doctors want to see consistency, not off-the-charts readings. And milestones are in the same boat. No baby is better than another because he crawled soon, or she ate baby food at an earlier age, or she's walking, or he's speaking fluent Mandarin, or she's first chair flute in the philharmonic at the ripe old age of twelve.
I don't understand people like that. But I do understand this - if height is a competition,
we won.