Red-haired Racism

I was shopping at Michael’s, the twins roaming a nearby aisle.  I heard a woman’s voice: “Are you looking for your mommy?”  She asked.  “I know where she is!  Follow me!”

Will and Reid appeared at the end of the aisle, looking at me and then uncertainly toward the voice.  “Come on!” She said.  “This way!”

Reid and Will ran to my side.  They grinned.

“We didn’t go with her,” Will informed me.

“That’s good,” I said.  “I think she was confused.”

Moments later, an African-American woman appeared.

“Are they yours?” She asked.


“OH,” She said, laughing.  “I tried to give your kids away!  I’m sorry!  But come look over here and you’ll see!”

I followed her to the next aisle, where a red-haired woman stood holding a baby with fine red fuzz on his head.

“See?” She laughed.  “I thought they were with her!  I’m so sorry!”  She turned toward the other woman.  “I tried to give you some extra kids, I thought they were yours!”  She laughed again and shook her head.

Nice, I get it.  They’re the only red-headed people in the store, so they MUST be related!  A blonde couldn’t be their mom!  All white people look the same after all!

I suppressed my racist hilarious remarks.

“That’s ok,” I said, smiling cheerfully, “You were just trying to help!”






About jennyvogan

Author of "Stephen's Mom," a blog documenting the funny, crazy life of raising four boys while keeping my day job as an ultrasound tech.
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