Conversation last week at adoption ceremony for a friend with a couple whom have adopted a baby after fostering one previous child:
Dad: How many kids have you had?
Me: 28.
Him: Oh yeah, we know exactly how you feel. We had one before (daughter) that we had to give back.
Wife: Dear, she said 28 kids. You said ONE.
Him: Oh.
And then he avoided talking about his kid, fostering or the obvious adoption that was about to happen the rest of the time.
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Conversation at school today while waiting for an ARD meeting to start:
Special ed teacher to me: Did you see (African American student)'s mom out there?
Me: I don't think so. Is she African American?
Classroom teacher, sarcastically: No, she's white.
Me: Well, MY kids are african american....
Him: Oh. Sorry.
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Conversation at a birthday party with Chickadee:
Someone I've never met before: What's your daughter's name?
Me: Chickadee.
Her: REALLY? That's...um...unusual. What's her middle name?
And then I started laughing. I cannot say the middle name to a stranger who doesn't know I didn't choose these names without laughing apparently.
(I am reminded of the month I spent trying to wrongly pronounce Little Guy's name. Chickadee's middle name is easy to pronounce. It's just a little "thematic" and makes me giggle. Let's not even discuss Sunshine's...)
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