I Shouldna Dunnit

During a conversation I had with another mother she decided to get to the bottom of what must have been gnawing at her for some time. She asked, "how many children of your own do you have?" She wanted to know how many Chinn's were adopted. But the way she worded it got on my nerves.

"your own."

I wasn't mad at her, but I wasn't helping her either. I answered, "I have three children." This wasn't the answer she was expecting, so there was some uncomfortable silence as her brain tried to work it out.

Deserved. [shrug]

"Buuut, your little one is from Russia right?"

"Yup, she's 4, Baden's 8, and May's 11"

- - Pause - -

"Is May your oldest?" - - Goodness gracious lady, let it go!

"Yep."

Confusion. Silence.

Me: "Well it was great running into you! I'm sure I'll see you around soon..."

This isn't the first time something like this has happened, but it is the first time (in four years I might add) that I ever let myself get bothered.

No worries. Her suffering was minimal. As well as my guilt.