Bus stops are funny places. Every morning, parents and kids converge to wait for the bus. I try to avoid eye contact with all adults because I’m not truly awake enough to have a conversation with anyone. Of course that never works. In the afternoon, I try to stick my nose in a book while Jaxson runs around, hoping I can have a moment to myself before the bus drops off Sophia.
While my husband probably doesn’t view the bus stop with such introverted dread, he’s field his fair share of questions from the kids. A couple of weeks ago, he actually made it to the bus stop well before pick-up. Usually it’s a mad rush for him, especially since Jaxson always comes along. All that extra time allows for plenty of interesting conversation.
“Sophia’s Dad!” one of her classmates yell. She never seems to speak with an inside voice. It’s always a high pitch and louder than necessary.
“Yes?”
“Was Sophia in her mom’s belly?”
A pause, as my husband was not sure where the conversation was going. After all, he wasn’t prepared to explain the birds and the bees to a first grader who was not his child.
“Um, yes?” he responded.
“What color was Sophia when she came out of her mom’s belly?”
I was not present at the bus, but I can imagine my husband’s relief.
“Well,” I’m sure my husband was very amused at this point. “She was a little bit lighter than she is now.”
“So she was still brown?” the girl continued.
“Yes, she was brown.”
“Ok!” And Sophia’s classmate ran off to play with the rest of her friends.
I’m glad she asked. I’m sure many adults wonder the same thing about mixed race babies (or even African American babies), but are afraid to ask. Yes, my kids’ skin became a little darker as they got older, but not by much.
Now that it’s summer, they’ll become a lot darker with all the outdoor play. They tan well.