By now, you’re all familiar with my son, Jack. He’s 37 pounds of pure squish and has THE most serious expressions I’ve ever seen in a child.
He enjoys long wobbly walks on the playground, wearing tiny cowboy hats, pulling his sister’s hair and destroying my expensive lipstick. Don’t let his jowls of steel fool you… this guy has a soft side. It’s tough to capture on camera, but it’s there.
Now, look. I know he’s been known to dress up in his sister’s princess shoes on occasion…
… but you can clearly see he has a giant boy body with a giant boy head and a seriously giant boyish expression. There’s nothing dainty about this kid (except for that one pose, wow, slow down Honey Boo Boo Child). So, my question is, WHY DO ALL THE MIDDLE AGED ASIAN WOMEN IN AMERICA KEEP ASKING IF HE’S A GIRL?
You know how it goes when you have a newborn. Some douchey stranger at the grocery store always guesses the wrong gender and makes you cry because you’re hormonal and your baby is new and perfect and beautiful and THE CENTER OF THE FRIGGIN UNIVERSE DANG IT. I remember I had Maddie in the stroller at the mall, pushing her around all proud mama bear-like and thinking everyone was looking at her because that’s just what new moms do. She was wearing A PINK BOW ON HER HEAD and some lady still asked how old my son was. Stab.
So yeah, I get that. Newborns are aliens and sometimes you just can’t tell. BUT JACK?? Am I missing something? No really, do I have my mom beer goggles on? Several times this year, an older asian woman has stopped us and said, “So cuuute!” And I’m like, “Well, thank you!” And then she cuts right to the chase and asks, “Boy or girl?” -_-
There are some things you just don’t ask a woman.
1) When are you due? It’s never polite, pregnant or not.
2) Is dinner ready yet? I will strangle you with these spaghetti noodles.
3). Boy or girl? He has facial hair, so NO, he’s not a girl.
I mean, really. I try to be gracious and keep my sarcastic responses to a minimum, but it’s tough! Have you ever been there? And when will they stop asking? If Jack starts to understand, he can take matters into his own little squishy fists and that’d be fine with me. Not that I condone punching old women or anything. EXCEPT MAYBE I DO.
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