Zoe's Conversation

Monday Morning Conversation with Zoe.

Z: Daddy, I'm brown, and you're white.
D: Yep.
Z: I'm brown like Mommy and you're white like Julian.
D: That's right. What do you think about that?
Z: That's all I think.
She smiles, then adds:
Z: Me and Mommy have housecoats. You and Julian don't.

Well isn't that flippin' amazing? The color of my skin is in the same category as my clothing. Just little differences. If a 3 year old can figure that out, why can't grown adults?

Over the weekend, I ran into a driver I work with. I talk with him about every day. Nothing with a lot of depth, but we still have conversations. When I saw him Saturday, I called him by name as I was about 5 feet away. He nodded toward me, but other than that, didn't acknowledge me. At all. Or my wife. Or my kids. I can only assume why. I guess he can assume why his truck won't be fueled by me any longer.

I can't explain this ugliness, this hatred to myself. How will I be able to explain this to my innocent children?