weird stuff you say

Sometimes when you're an adoptive parent, you say stupid shit. I did that at the airport the other day. I was in the little kid play area and the kids were exploring what I'm sure were germ infested blocks, balls and cars along with a couple of other children. One was a little African-American boy a little older than Sloane. His mom was on the bench next to me, tall, blonde, pretty white, kind of granola and a little older than me. Her husband came by to get her coffee order and he was pretty white too. So in my judgmental, stereo-typey head I put two and two together and figure they must be adoptive parents too.

I was making small talk about how old her kids were and she was amazed that Tagg was only 3. Like really blown away that he was only 6 months older than her son given the 6 inch height difference. "His dad must be really tall." Obviously she had noted that I am a shrimp and had some familiarity with genetics so she immediately assumed my husband is an NBA player. So I say, "He is." thinking of Paulie who is in fact tall. And then, for some unknown reason, I start to say, "So is his birth mom" but then I realize I can't say that because she doesn't know that my kids are adopted and it's rude to assume that hers are and, honestly, is it any of her business that he's adopted and his birth mom is an amazon queen? Can't his dad just be tall? So, what comes out of my mouth as I'm going on the fly is, "So is his...mom."

What?! Nooooooo!!!!! Why did I say that?! Of all the incredibly awkward things to say...just shut up! Shut! Up! The words were still hanging in the air in one of those cartoon bubbles where my face looks stricken and awkward, when Tagg comes running up to me and says, "Mommy, mommy! Can I play with that truck."

Well, shit. Now she thinks Tagg has two mommies. And a daddy. Or that I am a complete whack job which at this point might be closer to the truth. Needless to say, she packed up her kids and left shortly after that little exchange. Before her coffee even arrived. I'd love to read her blog post about the encounter with the weird height-obsessed lady at the airport.

I guess maybe this is a portent of things to come. More awkward conversations, situations, implications. Maybe I'll get better at it. Or maybe I'll be the one to leave in search of a coffee escape.