We walked down to the local art festival yesterday. It's too bad we didn't register Atticus and Norah as a performance art installation; If we'd been able to charge all the people who stopped to coo over them we would have walked away with a good start to their college fund.
I'm always amazed by how often Paul and I have this conversation:
Bystander: "Ooh! Are they twins?!!"
Us: "No, they're three months apart." This is said in a tone we interpret to be pleasant, but rather final so as to discourage further discussion.
Bystander: "Huh. How did that happen?"
Us: "We adopted them."
Bystander: "So, are they really brother and sister?"
Us: "Um, yes. But they're not related biologically."
Is it really that hard to look at two white parents pushing a stroller with their two brown babies and make a couple of wild guesses about their family? Is it that necessary to find out more details about their personal lives? I don't mean to sound grumpy about it. I love showing off our kids and I don't mind talking about adoption. It's always in the back of my mind though that someday very soon Atticus and Norah are going to be able to understand these conversations. I doubt they're going to feel comfortable with people questioning the origin of our family every single time we go out. How do those of you who are adoptive parents handle curious (and clueless) onlookers? I want to strike a balance between being open and proud of our family while also discouraging total strangers from thinking that it's totally okay to ask personal questions about my kids in the middle of the grocery store. Is that even possible?
After the art fair we walked down to the river. Paul's company had a booth at the Eco-Fest and we wanted to make an appearance. When we got to the festival, however, the mood seemed rather...off. After a couple of minutes we realized we had mistakenly arrived at the Suicide Prevention Festival.