Saturday, December 20, 2008
Well, since Jyll told one of her "Asian" stories at Hearn Happenings, it inspired me to share one of ours. (I say "one" of our stories, because we have many.) John and I were at the mall a few weeks before Thanksgiving. It's the first and only time I've been to the mall since we've been home. I digress. Ok, so we're strolling past the area where the Massage chairs are set up and several Asians are giving back rubs, etc. One man in particular looks our way, sees John and walks right up to us speaking Japanese. He's smiling and talking away while I'm nodding and smiling, totally confused of course. I just shrug at all he's saying and say "have a good day!" Then, he looks at us in confusion. I wish I'd had the foresight to say..."look, my son is Chinese and I don't speak Japanese." Too little, too late. I certainly don't mind all the stares and the "oh, how cute" comments. But, it sure gets old when people ask, "is he yours?" Duh. No, I'm 30, and my occupation is a babywalker. I think I'll say that next time someone asks. Oh, dear Laura, that makes me think of you - that's something you would be proud of me if I said, right!?