I Hope You're Not Next!

Our girls have red hair. I am sure you have noticed. It is quite often the focal point of gawking strangers. Kate's hair has become more of an auburn, but Neddy's is still a full-flamed torch. It is very strange to me how random people will rush over to us to admire the girls' hair. It is like red-hair is some rare gem and they must get closer so they can admire it. 


I do not have red hair. Hubby does not have red hair either. (On a side note: This is actually a funny story for us. My husband, who originally struggled with the idea of adoption, wanted to adopt domestically so that we would have children that looked similar to us so we wouldn't have to answer as many questions from strangers. My response: They might not look like us anyway! God could give us kids with red hair! Ha! Ha! Ha! --- God has an amazing sense of humor!)


Anyway, as these strangers are drooling over our kids' heads they do make the obvious observation that neither mom or dad have red hair. And then comes the question. A question that I think is quite odd if you think about it. A question that I don't think I have ever asked: Where did they get their red hair from?


What in the world? Why would it matter where they got their hair from? Why can't you just say: What beautiful hair color!? And then leave it at that. I don't ever recall saying: Where did you get your blue eyes? Who gave you nice olive skin? or better yet, you have an enormous butt. Where did you get it from?


This always leaves me semi-speechless (hard to believe, right?). I mean, I am not at all concealing that our children were adopted (this is a public adoption blog) but I don't think it is the business of a random stranger to know how our family was made. AND I am sure that some day our girls will appreciate a little more discretion and want it to be their choice in who is privy to that information (that will be the death of this blog, I presume).


Hubby, of course, did not notice that many, many people asked this question until I pointed it out to him. Then it seemed like the question was coming from everywhere -- the waitress, the weird lady running out of the store after us, the receptionist at the doctor...


It was time for a plan. We decided that the next person to ask us where our children got their red hair was going to get an uncomfortable response. Here is how it will play out. I hope you're not next!


Stranger: Where did they get their red hair from?
Hubby: (In an angry voice) I don't know. Obviously not from me. Why don't you ask my wife? 
(Followed by hubby storming off and a fake cry from me.)


Who's uncomfortable now?