Biracial Lesbian Mothers? In My Christian Play-Place?

, , , | Friendly | October 18, 2020

I get out of the military and spend my first year out living with my best friend from uni and her family: her husband and five small children under the age of eight. I am between jobs and looking after the kids and it’s all going great. The kids think I’m the coolest aunt ever and I’m really enjoying the change of pace.

My friend needs to travel eleven hours by car with all the kids to attend a family celebration in another state and her husband has to work. She asks if I am okay with traveling with her and all the kids. I say absolutely; I love road trips! We pack up the van and head out.

Traveling with five small children is always an adventure, full of bathroom breaks and snacks, and it is all unremarkable except for our stop for lunch on the way out. We go to a chicken-based fast food restaurant because they are family-friendly and have a good play-place. We order food and grab a table. My friend eats first and I keep an eye on the kids, baby-wearing the littlest.

At one point, I have to give a reminder.

Me: “[Kid #1], play nice, please.”

Kid #1: “Okay, Auntie.”

And he returns to play. When I get the signal from my friend, I head back to our table, hand over the littlest kid, and sit down to eat my food.

My friend looks like she’s thinking about something but doesn’t say anything. I’m eating and not paying a whole lot of attention until I hear a woman at the table behind me say something to her kid.

Woman #1: “You are not to play with those children.”

There aren’t that many kids in the play-place: just our five and three others. I wonder if I’ve missed some bad behavior, but my friend has been keeping an eye on things and hasn’t gotten up, so I think things are okay. 

My friend is subtly making faces now but not saying anything to me and still not going to get the kids. I hear something from the table behind me that sounds something like:

Woman #2: “I didn’t think they’d be here.”

Between that and the kid comment, I very unsubtly turn around to take a look. I see two women, each with a kid, engaging in a kind of staring contest with my friend. I don’t know them, and I don’t know if my friend knows them, but since they’re a bit older than us and have a certain… entitled vibe… I don’t think she does. I shrug and go back to finishing my food and the staring match stops. There are whispers I can’t quite hear from the table behind me.

Finally, my friend gets up to get the kids to come back to the table and eat. The ladies finish up their meal quickly and leave, with more staring.

I ask my friend:

Me: “Did I miss something? Did one of our kids do something out of line? Did you know those women?”

And so on.

Friend: “Apparently, those women saw us, clearly not related-looking—”

I’m significantly darker than my friend.

Friend: “—and our five children, and they decided we were a biracial lesbian couple with too many kids, hence the staring, whispering, and passive-aggressiveness.”

I was glad that they’d left before my friend explained because I wish I’d had a chance to give them a piece of my mind.

The rest of the road trip was totally uneventful and free from negative commentary by random women.

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