Where did all that hair come from?

It happens all the time. In the grocery store, at the library, basically anywhere that involves standing in a line for more than 2 minutes. It's just enough time for someone to look over, see Isaiah and exclaim, "Wow! Where did all that hair come from?" Followed by several quick back and forth glances, looking at me, back to Isaiah, back to me, and I see the confusion all over their faces.

I'm not about to respond "Oh, we'll he's adopted." to some stranger. So instead I say, "It's amazing isn't it! We really love it!" From this point one of two things happen, either the person says, "Yes it's fantastic!" or, and I really don't understand why after I've politely evaded the question this would ever be ok, they insist, "No, really. Where did he get that hair?"

Since my momma bears continuously prowls just below the surface ready to attack at the slightest hint of adoption related junk comments I have to consiously reign myself in. So with a big smile I say, "We don't know but we're glad he's got it!" And sometimes to my amazement people keep pushing and I end up stonewalling with non answers. Or sometmes, if I'm simply not in the mood, I'll say with a straight face, "From me". And as an honest Christian girl I hate it when my frustrations get the best of me and I lie. Ugh.

I wonder, how do parents of internationally adopted children do it? Our than our wildly different hair it's not too difficult to assume Isaiah was born to me. But what if he was of a completely different race? How many more comments would be leveled at us wherever we went? Seriously. Those parents have my respect.

And here's that hair in case you're wondering what all the fuss is about!