Introducing: Sophia

Sophia is my middle child. I suspect she will be the topic of this BLOG more than any other child. Middle children are like that. If you were a middle child, you probably understand exactly what I mean. Caught between the older children who seem to know everything and the younger children who seem to get their way with everything, it pays to stand out. Sophia is the child who has no fear and says exactly what is on her mind. Loudly.

Before my 95-year old grandmother passed away last fall, we used to drive into Arlington every week to have lunch with her. There was a very nice dining room at her retirement home, staffed with a wonderfully multi-cultured group of waiters. They all knew us and we felt like they were family. One day we were waiting in the lobby for my grandmother to arrive for lunch. While we were sitting at the entrance of the dining hall, a new manager at the retirement home walked by. He was a very distinguished looking African-American man.

In a very clear voice, Sophia said, "Wow! YOU look different!"

At moments like these in a mother's life, there is never a hole deep enough in which to crawl. I try to think of them as "OSGs" (Opportunity for Spiritual Growth-- in other words, I'm hoping it reduces my time in Purgatory). Ashamed and surprised that Sophia would comment on the man's appearance, I desperately stared off in to space in the opposite direction (ok, I turned so my nose was nearly touching the wall behind me) to pretend I hadn't heard a thing. Meanwhile, the nice manager across the room briefly glanced at Sophia and stalked away. I don't think he bought my ruse.

As soon as he left, and trying to keep from sounding angry, I whispered to Sophia, "Why would you say that? Why did you say that man looked different, sweetie?"

In a voice that I wished had been a little louder, Sophia said, "Mommy, didn't you see him? He didn't have any hair!"

Copyright © Elizabeth Hertz Puglise 2009. All rights reserved.