Simply Noah

Everywhere we go people have questions about Noah. Some keep their questions hidden under raised eyebrows. Others open their mouths and the questions drop as rapidly as rain drops in a summer thunderstorm. 

Today was no exception. In the checkout line at the grocery store the cashier quickly sized-up Noah and me. (The big kids were home with a good friend of mine.) And then, the first question erupted.

Cashier: Is he yours?

Me: Yes.

Cashier: Where is he from?

Me: China.

Cashier: Do you have other kids?

Me: Yes.

Cashier: Are they yours?

Me: Yes, they are ALL mine.

Cashier: How are the older kids doing? (No, I do not know this lady!)

Me: Fine.

Cashier: Was it expensive?

Me: It could have been more.

Cashier: My sister adopted their child but I don't know where from.

And on and on it goes ...

People are genuinely interested. They have, for the most part, been very kind and friendly. I suppose this is just the start of the torrent of questions we will field over the years as Noah's skin color will not change. He will always be of Chinese descent. Some may think it strange that Noah is of a different race but in our eyes he is simply Noah, our son.