It's always fun when an otherwise pleasant family outing is interrupted by random adoption questions by strangers. It's especially fun when those questions are thoughtless, potentially hurtful and asked point-blank in front of my children's faces.
Woman: (staring at my children as we shopped for clothes) "So, not one of them is your own?"
Me: (placing my hand significantly on my heart and making direct eye contact in hopes of ending this conversation immediately) "Actually, every single one of them is mine."
Woman: (not getting the hint and stepping deeper in the mire of insensitive curiosity) "And you love them?"
Me: (giving each of my kids a pained but intentionally very warm smile) "Of course I love them. Very much."
I guess if I were a glass half-full kind of girl, I would chalk this up as an unexpected opportunity to affirm my children. In public. To a stranger. After all, charity begins at home - or maybe, in the crowded clothing stall of a flea market.