This past Saturday, Katie and I decided to chase the so called "super bloom". When we realized that Anza Borrego was too far, and Lake Elsinore was too crowded, we decided to try Chino Hills State Park. Much closer, less commitment; perfect!
We got there and there were a lot of people and cars but it wasn't overwhelming. So we parked, grabbed the camera, water, and snacks, and headed out. We were walking up up up and naturally Angel started to get tired. As a parent you know that its at this moment that you make a calculation in your head - Keep going and suffer the ramifications of a tired as hell 3 yo or turn around to save the headache. We kept going.
About 3/4 of the way up, Angel melted down (I'd say about a 5 on the 1-10 scale) and sat down and started to cry and whimper. We stood around him and let him work it out. Most people just kept going, avoided us, smiled, etc. Until... the lady.
This lady, mid 40's maybe, approached us and said, something along the lines, "oh no! Is he lost?!" It was immediately very clear to me what she was thinking and the irony of the situation but we said, with smiles on, "No, he's ours, just really tired" (or something like that).
When he worked his way through his tantrum we kept walking and just laughed. I think Katie said "welp, that's a first" and I probably added a smart ass comment.
The interesting thing is that neither of us were mad. That comment had zero impact on our lives and our relationship with our son. What's more interesting is that when Angel was sleeping on the ride home, and we talked about it, we were really more intrigued by this ladies life than anything. What's her life like? Has she ever seen a mixed family before? Does she know anyone that has fostered? Adopted? Was she just really ditzy or scatterbrained? I don't know.
What we settled on was this: We hoped that in that moment she realized something about herself or was introduced to the beauty of adoption - and maybe, juusssst maybe, the world was a tiny bit of a better place.