It wasn’t totally my fault though.
So, Felicity had an appointment and had her PKU test done. Which is a little blood test. And as per usual with babies, she got a little bit of blood on her yellow sleeper. It was a light cotton knit sleeper not one of those heavier terry cloth sleepers, which is kind of sad that it’s too warm for those because I love little babies in those sleepers, which is really off point right now. Anyway, Mr. French went to get a new sleeper for her and he came back with a blue one.
“Oh, I wasn’t going to put that on her. I just had that in there in case we had a boy.”
“But I think it’s such a pretty color blue.”
“Yeah.” I paused. “But people are going to think she’s a boy wearing that.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
But I couldn’t really say too much, because, one, her Daddy just picked out her clothes for her and that was very helpful to me and two, you never want to discourage Daddys (daddies? what is the plural form?) from helping out when they can. Right? Right.
Now fast forward to the afternoon. We decided to go try out a Dollar Theatre to see a movie. We always go out the first week we have a new baby, because Mr. French isn’t working and we usually have free babysitting and newborns are (for us anyway) at their easiest. By a series of boring events, Mr. French packed the diaper bag (with me on the phone!) and got her in her carseat and ready to go. And that’s when I remembered the whole thing about the blue sleeper.
“Maybe we shouldn’t correct people when they assume she’s a boy, so they don’t wonder why we put her in a blue sleeper.”
“Honey, you’ve mentioned that blue sleeper like 6 times now. I don’t think it matters.”
“But she looks like a boy.”
“She can never look like a boy.”
So we’re standing in line at the theatre and a woman holding a one-year-old peeks into the carseat.
“Oh, he’s a new one.”
“How old is he?”
“Ummm. Four days old.”
“Oh, you just got back home from the hospital.” she said incredulously.
“Well, my Mom has my huh, older boys, so we thought we’d make a date of it.”
“Oh, that’s so nice. So you have other kids?”
“Yeah, three boys. The other three are boys.” This is awkward.
“This is my 4th too. They grow up so fast.”
Relieved to be going into a dark theatre.
Fast forward to the restaurant.
I had nursed her, and she was sleeping in my arms when the waitress noticed how young she was.
“Oh, he’s so tiny. How old is he?”
“4 days old.”
“Oh, my goodness. What is his name?”
Whoa, hadn’t thought of that question!
“Umm, actually, it’s a girl. We have three boys and we were starting to run out of clothes.” (Sort of. Not exactly, though.)
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just saw the blue and assumed.”
“Oh, no problem. She looks like a boy when she’s wearing blue.”
“Oh, no she doesn’t. She’s adorable. What is her name?”
“Oh, that is so precious.”
So, that went as well as could be expected. (That’s a line from Wallace and Gromit.)
When we got home, we had two packages of pretty pink clothes sitting in our mailbox.
I think it’s a sign.