Friday night, neither P.Pie nor I felt like cooking, so we wrapped up The Squeaker and headed for our favorite Mexican food joint, La Loma’s
Apparently it was infant night atLa Loma’s, and they were sticking us all in one section of the restaurant.
In the booth across from our table were two couples, one with a six week old and the other with a two monther. Squeaker was facing them and performing amazing acts of prestidigitation with her pacifier; too which, they ooh’d, ahh’d and giggled appropriately.
Of course, having small children puts folk in a special club and gives you carte blanche to start a conversation with the other parent(s).
Before the birth of the twins, I wrote about my apprehension of finding out the sex of the twins.
There were lots of reasons not to find out the sex of the twins, but the primary reason was because I didn’t want all of the twins’ shower gifts to be blue and/or pink.
But in the end, we did find out the sex and all the shower gifts were all blue and/or pink. Apparently there may be a reason for dressing girls in the pervasive pink.
In the seven months we’ve been toting The Squeaker around, unless she’s dressed in head to toe pink, everyone says “Awww, he’s so cute! How old is he?”
And the pair of couples at the other table Friday night were no exception.
The picture above is one of my favorite Squeak outfits (which she probably won’t fit into next week); this particular ensemble gets more gender questions than most others. [ed. note: maybe it just seems that way because I dress her in it so often]
But I don’t get it; look at the frilly arms and wide, blousy bottom of the shirt. And don’t get me started with the pink flowers around the waistband of the jeans. Who would dress their boy in this manner?
The Squeaker owns, and wears, of cute pink girls’ clothes. But I will continue to dress her in non-pinks and in order to circumvent the gender question maybe I’ll have a sign made that says, “Yes, I’m A Girl.”