I decided to make my last pre-baby trip to Costco today with our three kiddos. I really didn't need anything from Costco specifically, but they have big carts and cheap milk, so that's where we decided to go.
Now, I'm going to illustrate this for you with words since the government does not allow me to post pictures of my foster kids. Thanks Obama Care. Picture this, Little Sister, a two and a half year old African American little girl with twists in her hair and purple leopard pants, is sitting in the basket portion of the cart, covered in Costco-sized groceries. Her ten month old little brother and his four inch tall afro are sitting in the seat next to Lila, my white, runny-nosed, twenty-three month old daughter. We have completed our shopping and are waiting in line for what ends up being nine huge pieces of pizza. I'm still not really sure how that happened. Anyway, as I am navigating the cart and the three plates of pizza to find a place to sit down, an older woman stops me and says, "They're so cute! Are they twins?" I'm still not exactly sure which two she was talking about, but she seemed to be referring to my 32 pound vanilla daughter and my 15 pound chocolate foster son. I kind of smiled at her and said, "No...they're not twins," and started cutting up pizza.
Now I have been asked all kinds of things by strangers about my motley crew, "Are they all yours?" "Is their father around?" but never before have I been asked if two of them are twins. There's a first time for everything, I suppose.
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