As previously mentioned, I am very happily a parental figure to two kids that I played no part in conceiving, which means for those keeping score that I got to jump straight from Maiden to Crone in something of an accelerated program.
Anyway, these kids are semi-obviously not my biological progeny in that they have their dad’s spectacular eyebrows that I covet every day while I am resentfully drawing mine on, and their gorgeous, ethereal, very very very blonde hair from their mom’s side.
So like, we’re walking the kids through the grocery store parking lot to buy dinner the other day, and a woman stops in the crosswalk to look at me, look at my boyfriend, look at the kids, and then loudly ask “WHERE’D THAT BLONDE COME FROM?”
And I’m just like momentarily frozen, like, do I have to explain to this biddy “hey yeah these aren’t my biological kids but they are my boyfriend’s, but rest assured that the divorce was extremely amicable and also i’m a solid stable fixture in their life and they actually take after their mom’s family-“
and then my boyfriend, (who is for the record a fucking stud) eliminated all that worry by saying (very sexily and without breaking his stride in the least):
“The mailman.”
and ooooooooo her indignant faaaaaace i love him so much