I was reminded of a wedding dinner some months back, where a Chinese lady walked in to the restaurant with her African husband and a son a little under age 10.
The boy has a face that strikingly resembles a Chinese’s, but there were traces of African. So you can’t really pin-point exactly whether he’s Chinese or African. Not even a Africhinese, you know, like you can tell if a person is a Chindian.
“He’s Chinese!”
“No lah, African!”
“No, no, maybe Hawaiian!”
“No, no, no!”
Silence.
“Then?”
“He’s an African but half a Chinese with ancestors from Hawaii who’s also African who married Chinese! Hah!”
Oh well.
And his hair, I can’t forget his hair. They were little blobs of really short curls, like when you had your garden newly planted with patches of grass. It was so cute.
I think I would like my children to have curls too. The boy would have… a dark chocolaty subdued afro-do, you know, like those yummy Spanish/Italian guys who grew up in California combing the beach; while the girls would be head full of ringlets, like Corinne Bailey Rae's. That’ll be so cool. Yes?
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