The Produce Department

The Bean and I were in a grocery store tonight. Noteworthy not because we were there, I mean it's a bi-monthly happening folks. But we were there alone, the two of us. Leslie had gone along on most every single grocery trip for about as long as I can remember. Yes, I know that I am spoiled but, I did have some herniated cervical discs that prevented me from being able to push even a lightly loaded cart without crawling around in misery for a week or two- I digress....
So there we were, the two of us. In an attempt to be SuperMama and not spend the entire trip going "oh please just let me get this done and then we can talk" (in review- she's not called things like Jackhammer and Hacksaw for nuttin')- I was trying to keep up with her conversationally, while picking out produce and steering the cart. So, after several minutes, the first thing I wanted to talk about happens.
This woman, who looked very nice and was smiling big, approached us and when I looked at her she asked "May I ask you a question?"- I braced myself, waiting for the obvious adoption questions- which can range from the completely innocent and congratulatory to invasive and judgemental. What a refreshing change this lady was. She simply asked me how old Bean was, not even her name or anything, just how old she was. We told her, she smiled at Bean and spoke with her a second or two. Then she looked at me and congratulated me on having a daughter with "startlingly good vocabulary skills" and then she went on her way. I was stunned. I was thankful. I was proud.
On we go. Red peppers. Celery. Cucumbers. Oranges.
Then there we were in the citrus section between the limes and grapefruits. I looked up and an Asian mother was right next to me with her tiny, 10 month old Asian daughter. This was a cute baby. Dark black hair, gorgeous eyes. All of a sudden I realized that the continuous chatter that emanates from MY Asian daughter had stopped. I snapped my head over to her and she was fine. She was just sitting there, mutely staring at this baby. Then the other mother was looking at Bean and smiling. Through the language barrier we had a very brief conversation, ages and cuteness really. Then we went on our way, The Bean and I.
The silence continued and she kept craning her head to follow the baby. When they got out of her sight, she nearly demanded that I follow them around the store. Then she started in with some questions for me. The first, and most telling I think, was "Who's baby sister is she Mama?"
POW! That went right to my guts. I responded with "I am not sure if she is any one's sister, she may be her Mama's one girl"
E: Well I think that she should be my sister. I really need a sister Mama. I think I would be a good oldest sister.
M: We can't have her as ours Ev, she already has her Mama.
E: Yeah. A China Mama. Not YOU. We can just go and get her.
M: Well, we just can't get any little girl that we think is cute to be ours. That's not how we do that.
E: Well, I want HER.
M: What would you do with her Bean? If you had a baby sister that little, how would you be a big sister to her?
E: I would just.... love her. Yep. Love her and give her naps.
M: silence for several minutes while I studied GD potatoes that I didn't even want just so I wouldn't weep in the store.

I hate that when I looked into Evelyn's eyes tonight as she talked of wanting a sister..... I HATE that I fully recognized that longing. I know where she is coming from. There we both stood, in the produce department, nearly in tears.
What a night.