Today Rosie and I went to a potluck with other adoptive families.
A man sat across from us who is about to meet his 16-year-old son. He brought Chinese food. I brought mostaciolli (sp?).
We were making small talk when Rosie blurts out, "you two make a good pair."
I felt myself blush, and the man and I exchanged humorous glances when Rosie clarified after 30 awkward seconds, "Yea, I love rice and spaghetti pasta."
"Oh," the man and I said simultaneously. Yet he didn't sit anywhere near me during the support group.
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