It's not the number...it's the hair

I now realize that the vast majority of annoying comments come from generally very sweet, well intentioned people commenting on the color of the children's hair. My favorite encounter was at a nearby playground.

Man: Wow. You have quite a lot of blondies there. Me: Yep. We sure do! Man: I don't think I've ever seen such blonde hair. Me: (laugh politely) Man: No really, I've never seen hair that blonde. And I'm from Sweden.

Ok. wow. that is blonde. Hair so blonde on Max and Oliver that it's practically translucent. When Oliver gets his hair wet, he just looks bald. Rosie has a touch of red to her blonde and Ladybug seems to be heading that way as well. we'll see.

Today we were walking back from the pool to Bob's parent's cottage at this "country club," when someone made a blonde comment. Rosie gave an exasperated mumble under her breath, "Yes! We have blonde hair!" I smiled at her and explained it was a compliment and that it was pretty cool that they have this special similarity that ties them together. It helped for now, but we'll have to see in the future. This doesn't help when several of the African American youth in our church have to constantly be touching their hair. It's gotten better for them, but the touches still come no matter how covertly.

My biggest problem is that I don't have blonde hair. I'm a total outcast when I'm with the kids. I'm constantly asked where they got the blonde hair from. I'm always thinking, well let's go back to high school biology class. I don't have blonde hair so chances are their father does.

But, this summer I've decided to dye my hair blonde. That's right. When I go in for my next haircut and color, I will no longer be the freak of the family. not much I can do about the brown eyes.