Sometimes people crack me up. Some of y’all know that I used to keep foster kids and it wasn’t unusual for me to have a rainbow of babies at my house.
One time I had a roly-poly mixed baby girl (that’s half black/half white in case y’all don’t know) my bald headed Jennifer we later adopted who was a baby at the time and a Native American girl who was about 7. I also had my two sons who were about 10 and 12. Nicholas looks Native American and Matthew looks white. Some of the expressions on people’s faces were priceless.
My friend Debbie is a nut and loves to mess with people. One day an elderly white woman liked to broke her neck turning to stare at me and my collection of children.
Debbie looks at her with a straight face and said, “She sleeps around.”
I about peed my pants laughing and the poor old lady high tailed it around the corner almost knocking over a kiosk of cards.
“You really shouldn’t do that, Debbie, you are liable to give that poor woman a heart attack.”
She loved to have fun with it because she also kept foster kids and her three granddaughters are mixed, so it wasn’t unusual for her to be in the same situation.
It has been years since I got one of those looks because I stopped taking kids about ten years a go.
This past October I went down to Houston to visit my cousin and grandmother. My cousin had to go to work so we took her son with us to eat dinner. I won’t mention names here but her son is mixed.
She actually lives in a suburb outside of Houston but you would think it would be a large enough city they would be used to interracial children. Apparently not. A white woman kept looking at me, then at my cousin, then at my husband and then at my blond haired daughter really trying to figure the whole thing out.
Mark said, “maybe I should tell her you sleep around.”
I said, “Don’t you dare.”