Saturday, February 18, 2012


I had to go meet Mr. D at his work the other day; I had O with me, but the other kids were all at school.

There was a woman there who doesn't work very closely with Mr D who, apparently, did not know that we foster.

She went on and on about how much O looks like Mr. D. Neither of us were sure how to respond. To be honest -- "No, he's not related. He's a foster child." -- would not only embarrass her and break the confidentiality rules of not identifying foster children as such, but would also imply to O that we didn't want people thinking he belonged with us. We tried to smile and laugh it off.

If L had been with us, it would have been simple. She would have loudly and clearly proclaimed that Mr D wasn't his Daddy; she does that every time someone asks me how old "my" kids are. Then I get to do the smile and smooth over, casual, "just staying with us for a while." L has clearly defined roles for every adult in her life and she doesn't want anyone getting that wrong! But she wasn't there. And O just stood and looked and listened.

The funniest part was when the woman said, "he's got your eyes, Mr D!" and O peered up at Mr D's face as though wondering how he could have Mr D's eyes when they were clearly still right there on Mr D's head!

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