I volunteered at a couple of events at Duncan's school today. The first event was a party for the top sellers/donors for the fundraiser. I chatted with another mom about Halloween before the kids got there. Her son was out late and got cold. I told her my kids generally give up pretty early. We got busy passing out goodies. When our sons entered the cafeteria, we pointed them out. She looked at Duncan and said, "Yes, he does kind of look like you." Yeah. Kind of. It's probably because I no longer have the cute chubby cheeks that all of my kids have had. My face is decidedly skinny. It's been described as chiseled. (That's a compliment, right?) I didn't say anything. I just kind of inwardly sighed, and recalled another occasion where my child "didn't look like me."
I walked down to the cul-de-sac at the end of our block, pushing Evan in a stroller. This was the summer block party, so it was probably early June, making Evan a whopping four months old. I proudly showed off my firstborn to anyone who would take a look. He was perfect and beautiful, and I was a beaming, proud mama! I was introduced to a neighbor's elderly mother. The old
bat dear took a look at Evan, then at me, and said, "Well, I guess he must look like his father." Granted, most babies don't look much like anyone other than Winston Churchill in those first few months, but still. I was hurt. I didn't say anything then, either, but I couldn't help thinking, "I just carried this baby 9 months, and dang it he does look like me!"
Me as a toddler
What do you think?