I went to the grocery store with Number 4 and Number 7 this weekend. I had Number 7 in the baby bjorn. She’s only 6 months old, and her hair is pretty short, so she’s at that stage where, at a quick glance, it’s hard to know if she’s a girl or a boy.
Keep in mind, I said at a quick glance.
I’m totally for all that non gender-specific stuff.
You know, if my son wants to play with dolls or push a stroller or carry a purse, good for him. Whatever makes him happy.
And a friend of mine from high school has a daughter who plays football and lacrosse, with the boys, and she’s like 10 or 11.
Like I told my friend, her daughter is pretty much my hero.
But when my baby is dressed head-to-toe in pink, with huge flowers all over her sweater, I am not making a look at my son — I will not bias him toward all things boy from birth so I am dressing him in pink statement.
I’m saying, I know it’s hard to tell, so to help you out, this baby is a girl.
So at the grocery store, I was waiting in line at the deli. Number 4 was spinning and twirling, and pausing every so often to comment on whatever caught her eye in the deli case.
“Mom, look how cute those hot dogs are!!!
Mom, the deli is soooo Springy!!!”
Anyway, a man came up to Number 7, who was decked out in her I’m-wearing-all-pink-so-you-know-I’m-a-girl-attire, and says, “Oh what beautiful eyes!”
Number 4 ran right over to Number 7 and me.
“Do you help take care of your little brother?” he asked Number 4.
Number 4 looked at me, wrinkled her forehead, looked back at the man,took a deep breath, and yelled
“SHE’S A GIRL!!!!!”
There were now at least 24 deli-waiting eyes on us now.
“Oh,” he said, smiling. “I couldn’t tell.”
And then, even louder, Number 4 screamed, “DUH! SHE’S WEARING GIRLS’ CLOTHES!!!!”
I have wanted to say that to at least twenty people over the years, but I’ve never had the backbone to do it.
I guess I don’t need it.
I’ll just be sure to bring Number 4 with me wherever I go.