Log in

No account? Create an account
reading tiger


Short bus stop conversation today:

3-year old girl in a tiara, to me: "Are you a mom?"

Me: "Yes. These are my kids."

Simone: "We're five years old."

Tiara child, to my children: "Are you sisters?"

April: "Yes."

Simone: "No."

April: "We're twins."

Me, indicating Simone: "She's the brother." Indicating April: "She's the sister." I do not think about my pronoun choice and Simone does not correct me, but this might explain the odd look tiara child gives me.

After a moment, tiara child indicates the person sitting next to her: "She's my nanny." Nanny looks to be in her 20s and Latina. Greetings are exchanged.

Nanny, looking at my kids: "Are they mixed?"

Me: "Yes, they are."

Tiara child: "What does mixed mean?"

Me: "It means their Daddy is black."

Again I get an odd look from tiara child. I just shrug. The nanny doesn't seem at all fazed by any of my answers. Soon everyone is distracted by a rainbow stripe of light beneath one of the bus stop seats.