Adopting A Parent

(I’m of Korean descent but I was adopted into Australia as a baby. I moved from one side of the country to the other alone, and made good friends with a woman who I’ve taken to calling ‘mum,’ as she looks out for me while my mother is so far away. Said friend accompanies me to the hairdresser one day and sits quietly as I chat to the stylist about being adopted and moving here.)

Me: “Oh, mum! How does it look so far?”

Friend: “It looks awesome, dear.”

Stylist: *touched expression, looking at my friend* “Did you move here to just to be with your daughter?”

Friend: *smirk* “I’m not her real mother.”

Stylist: “That’s… Well, I know, but you’re her mother NOW.”

Friend: “No, I’m not!”

Stylist: “But… but…”

(At this point, the stylist actually looks offended and has stopped cutting my hair.)

Me: “It’s okay; she’s not my adoptive mother, either. I just call her mum because mine isn’t here.”

(The stylist gave an awkward laugh and completed my hair in silence, whilst my friend and I were trying so hard not to make her more uncomfortable by bursting out laughing.)