About 2 years ago she asked me the question…..one of the questions I’d been dreading
I was in the bathroom putting my makeup on when the PIT strolled in, not unusual, she likes to talk to me ALL the time:)
She looked at herself in the mirror, looked at me, looked back at herself…suddenly her little forehead wrinkled the way it does when big thoughts are brewing…
“momma, why do I look like I should be Spanish?”
My heart raced and the only thought in my mind was “FUCK!?!???”
"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm"
She was 5 and I was gonna try to explain 2 things to her
1: you’re “biracial” (suprise)
2: you’re asain… Not hispanic
I sat down with her to talk about it. I was nervous and had no idea where to start
“technically, you’re dad is Asian and speaks Lao.” I blurted out like the insensitive ass that I am.
Without even missing a beat the PIT replies “what’s an Asian?”
Oooooooh fuck. I felt like hitting a panic button and screaming “I’m in over my head I’m in over my head!!!” What’s an Asian!?! Really!? I have asian friends! Ok I guess as with most of my friends it’s via Internet… The PIT hasn’t met alot of them. (Note to self….go visit your asian friends) Fine…but aren’t there any Asian kids in school? Why does she not know what that is? What the shit?!
I continue to try and explain this, the difference between Spanish and Lao, where Lao is, that no Lao is not the same as Chinese and why I have blonde hair and she has brown hair….
Every answer was met with a question. Every question met an answer. Round and round we went…her curiosity amazed and exhausted me! I managed to stumble my way through the rest of the explaintion, even managed to muster up a pleasant memory from when her dad & I were married, AND I even managed to smile a lil bit when I did. The PIT likes to hear stories of her dad, whenever I can scrounge up the strength to tell her a nice one.
The PIT and I spent most of the afternoon talking……as terrified as I was of that question being asked….Im glad that she asked. It was a mother/daughter moment that I wont soon forget.
