"Will that be together...or..."

Okay.  I know we don't look like your "average couple".  I mean look at us.  You've got one that's ridiculously hot, young-looking, a smile to beat the band.  And then you've got my wife.  KIDDING.  The point is, I'm hot.  No seriously.  I mean, the man is gorgeous.  Add 6 inches to me and you've got Denzel.  Add 8 inches to me and you've got Denzel's height.  HELLO!!  Okay, now that "One-liners with Shecky Green" is over, let's get to the point of this blog.

We've been dealing with racial issues ever since we first got together, as would be expected.  I mean, "Jungle Fever" really didn't help things out.  For one, the movie was terrible.  Secondly, to try and convince the public that it's okay for a black man and white woman to be together by putting the blackest man in the universe together with the palest Italian in existence in an already racially-skewed "Spike Lee Joint" was probably not the best way to go about it.  I mean, honestly, the best part about that movie was Sam Jackson and Halle Berry as the crackheads.  I just cursed Snipes the whole movie for getting to bag Annabella Sciorra and waited for the crackheads to show up.  Crackheads are awesome.  What about Methheads, you ask?  Well, I'm sorry, but they're just creepy addicts.  Methheads will stab you 150 times for $2.  Crackheads are fun addicts who don't care to murder you.  They say funny things and often have inexpensive jewelry for sale.  Don't ever change, Crackheads.  You're the best.

"You know, in 20 years when you do this with me, it'll be called a 'conjugal visit.'"

So anyway, back to the experiences of me and The Wife.  As I said, we've had our embarrassments.   In fact, the first year when I was here in KC, when I took her to a work event, I introduced her to one of my coworkers, an ON-AIR PERSON mind you, who recoiled and literally blurted out, "SHAUN! I didn't know you had a white wife!!"  Then she immediately turned red and nervously laughed, which we did as well.  I guess that unbeknownst to me I have the vibe of one of those black guys named "Mustafa" or "Minister Shakan" who would not only NEVER date a white woman, but would curse any black man who would as a "traitor to his race".  Didn't know I had a white wife.  Well, I didn't know you, uh, were, so...ugly.  Yeah.  How about that.  

Well, one of the wife's biggest pet peeves, aside from pretty much everything I do, is not being recognized as either my wife or the mother of our kids.  It happens all of the time and has ever since we got married.  Her biggest problem is when we're out to dinner, just the two of us, and the waitress comes over after the meal with the check, and says:

"So will that be together...or..."

This pretty much is about as offensive to her as if the waitress had come up with the check and said:

"Negros and Whites should not be together.  I spit in your risotto."

It doesn't bother me nearly as much.  But it happens all the time.  In fact, we JUST had a "date night" this past Saturday.  And we were sitting at the table talking about this EXACT same thing for some reason, when the waitress comes up, with the check, and asks if it's going to be on one check.  After I said yes and she left, The Wife went into a rage.  A contained rage, but a rage no less, which I had no problem with seeing as my mind was noting all of her statements for a future blog, which happens to be this one:

"That's ridiculous."

"So...what...she couldn't see this ring on my finger?"

"So I guess we're just two people, out on a Saturday night, having a friendly dinner?"

"You even had your ring out too.  I guess we're just cheating on our spouses then."

"Unbelievable."

"If I were a waitress I would NEVER ask that.  I would put it on one bill all the time."

I can see her point, I guess.  I mean, our body language was such that you had to know that we're together, right?  And it happens ALL the time, even when we're with the kids. At restaurants, at the GROCERY STORE when there's only one cart and we're in line together, ALL the time.  However, as angry as that gets her, the thing that REALLY ticks her off happens even more often.  It has to do with the kids.  

Now as beautiful as mixed-breed children can be, you know, the caramel skin, the beautiful eyes and overall cuddliness, it often presents a problem when it comes to social and/or school functions.  Well, what's the best way to put this.  Um...well, it probably would make sense for you to SEE what I'm talking about first:

Looks like Angelina done been to Kenya again.

You see for a blond woman who's more white than the light you see before you die, or so I'm told, being at these functions alone with the kids proves to sometimes be an embarrassing situation.  Now it mostly comes from little kids, who know our daughters, but have never seen them with their mother.  And when they do, well, you know how kids are...they have no internal register that checks them when they're about to say something that could be taken as inappropriate or offensive:

"YOU'RE Amaya's mom?"

"Are you REALLY Sydney's mom?"

"Um...you don't look anything like her."

And stuff like that.  Now obviously she can't say anything to these kids at the time, but when she gets home I get the brunt of her frustration.  She rants about how these kids were inside her for quite some time and she's the mom and why can't these kids see that she's the mom.  I feel for her...I mean, if I hadn't been able to drink alcohol for nine months, I'd at least want the kudos for the results.  I don't know.  I mean, I don't think there's really anything we can do about it.  I think the moral is that people are going to think what they're going to think, and we probably just need to expect that these misconceptions are going to happen from time-to-time, ESPECIALLY as we get older, because an old, bald black man and a gray-haired white woman look about as compatible as Steven Seagal and a salad.