Is She Your Baby?

I do all the cooking and grocery shopping in the house because the wife is...questionable...in the kitchen. Used to have a great little ritual that got me to the store on Sunday then home with a sub from their deli and the week's groceries about 1 PM. Perfect during the fall for the early NFL games. For some reason, I kind of switched to taking the kids on Mondays and learned that an entirely different clientele inhabits the grocery stores and Targets of the world during normal weekday business hours.

Weekend shoppers are often carrying a case of terrible beer, a bag of chips, and charcoal. They are too busy yelling at their kids to acknowledge your little darlings screaming about the free balloon and cookie. The weekday shoppers generally lived through the Great Depression and move at a pace that doesn't take much motivation. I have witnessed complaints over cans of peas listed at 57 cents when they were supposed to be 50 cents. Not much beer in the carts, it's been replaced with fiber supplements and cat food.

The weekday folks love talking to babies and little boys riding along with Daddy. ESPECIALLY when it's just Lily and me. I should constantly wear a shirt that says "She (she - she's a SHE) is x-months old, never smiles at strangers, and she looks like her Mommy AND Daddy."

Occasionally, I get some odd ball questions or comments. I was stopped in Target one day for Granny to coo at Lily in her blue and white polka-dot dress with yellow flowers and ribbons. Granny asked how old _he_ was, and I responded with, "She is 6 months old." I might as well have kicked her in the shin. She was really upset and berated me for putting a little girl in blue and that only little boys should wear blue. I tried to crack my usual joke when people get gender wrong(all babies look like old men with gas) but she wasn't having it. It's probably a good thing I could outrun her with a brisk walk.


Am I a boy, girl, or nursing home patient that hasn't gotten their pudding?

I've had people tell me that Lily looks just like me and others say she looks nothing like me. I've been asked what color Mom's hair is. If we're doing cloth diapers (why do you want to know that?). But the best conversation ever left me speechless at the end of it.

This lady spied Lily and me in the store while Owen and Mommy were hanging back home. I could tell there was going to be a conversation. Most people will make a googley eye as they pass or say hello, but this lady lit up at 100 yards. She wanted to know everything. Birth weight, Mom's hair color, religion, preferred college choice (definitely all-girls school, 150 miles from any boys). I was polite, but it was getting ridiculous. Finally, this woman asked if Lily was my daughter, waited about 15 seconds for me to blink at her and spit out an "Uhm...yeeeeesssss?" while I was trying to figure out if this is a trick question. As soon as my response was out, she turned and RAN. This lady was moving like she was storming the beaches of Normandy, just gone.

What the? I looked at Lily and she looked at me, and we made an important Daddy-Daughter bonding decision. From that moment on, she stares blankly at people and I tell them she doesn't smile at weirdos.

CK