A few days ago, a Peruvian woman came up to me while I was in the playground with our child. A native Spanish speaker, she summoned all the English she could find to learn more about me. She was married to a German with whom she’d had two kids, both of whom were exuberantly playing on the carousel, the subject of our child’s intense observation. They were in Tramin, on holiday. Apparently, the day before, when they were in the park, one of her daughters felt sure she had made a new friend. The next day, as we were entering the park, they had sighted us and the daughter apparently pointed out our child to her mother, declaring he was the new friend. The woman told me she’d wondered why her daughter had said that the ‘new friend’ hadn’t talked much to her. She could see, now, that he was still a baby learning to walk. After our conversation, she asked for my number so she could stay in touch. I was surprised by the exchange. Is this how moms make friends as adults, I wondered.

I’ve been thinking about mom friendships a lot because I now take our child almost daily to the playground, unless it is pouring. He treats watching other children as a leisure activity, his version of Reality TV. He is entirely absorbed by their every movement, dialogue, fight. If he is seated on a ride or a swing, he then watches everyone around him with curiosity, wonder, and suspense, as if he’s taking notes.