In the kitchenette at work… “Morning.”
My coworker, recently returned from maternity leave, observes me boiling water. “Making tea again.”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever drink coffee?”
“Sometimes . . . it’s a little bit bitter, though.”
“Yeah. I only drink it here at work.”
I nod. “I didn’t really discover caffeine until my first child was born.”
“Oh really?”
“Well, sure. ‘There’s a drug that will keep me alive after a night of no sleep? Sign me up.'”
She considers this. “Yeah, I’m lucky that the baby doesn’t cry a lot. I’d probably just drown it.”
Pause. “I . . . guess there’s a certain point in every new parent’s life where you think to yourself ‘I wonder how deep the bathtub is.'”
I’m not entirely certain that either of us should be proud of our role in that conversation.