Overheard in the elevator

I'm on the elevator this morning, woozy from not enough sleep, headed up to my floor. There are two older women on the elevator with me. They're talking.

"... But you have to watch what he eats. You can't let him have McDonald's for lunch or anything."

"No, I try to give him something lighter. Keep it healthy, right?"

"And I try to schedule all his activities in the morning, not too soon after breakfast, but not too close to lunch. I think he has a longer attention span without food on his stomach."

"Right. Anything after lunch is just... roll the dice, you know? All that digesting. He gets cranky, I've noticed that."

"Yes, and you have to watch out for caffeine and sugar -- even a little bit and he'll be bouncing off the walls all day. Give him water instead. Lots of water. You can't give him too much water."

"So that big basket in his office...?"

Office? I blink. Twice. I suddenly realize that they're not talking about taking care of a toddler.

"You'll need to make sure the basket's always full of water bottles, yes. Fiji is what he likes. If he's going to work late then make sure it's full because he hates running out in the middle of the evening."

I rub my eyes. Jesus. This whole world I'm in is bananas.