Why are you still talking?

Blah blah blah blah blah.

Oh, sorry. Ever since my three-year-old started talking, my brain automatically tunes out human speech. Sure, it's inconvenient when I happen to bump into another adult, but if I didn't develop this defense mechanism, I would have thrown myself in front of a large piece of farming equipment months ago.

Every once in a while I catch the little noise machine saying something hilarious, and I write it down so I can remember that at the very least, being a mom is kind of amusing. When it's not completely crazy-making.