Mud

Mud in Vermont. Boot-sucking, slippery, squashy, wet mud. Geez.

MeHapa? Yes, me hapa.

So, where are you from anyway? What? California? No, no. I meant, where are you from originally? Yeah, originally. You know, like your nationality. American? You're an American? You just don't look like an American. You almost look like you could be oriental or an indian., but not the ones from India. You're not an indian? Okay, let me rephrase the question. What country are you from because your English is great, almost like you've spoken it all your life. You have? Oh wow...I feel really stupid. Of course you were born here. Wow, really. I'm sorry about that.

So...where are your parents from? You know...originally?

Hee! I just love questions like these. I probably let them go way too long, but I'm all about letting people do their thing. We humans are a curious bunch, aren't we? All the same, I often enjoy the conversation that ensues once I get around to answering the question.

So what is my answer? I'm half Asian, half white. More specifically, my mom is Korean and my dad is, for the most part, Swedish. You can call me eurasian or amerasian, but I prefer hapa, which is slang in Hawaii for a person of mixed ethnicity with roots in Asian or Pacific Islander ancestry. It almost sounds like "half of", but when you say it fast like "haffa". Cool.

The questions are fewer and fewer as i get older since there are more and more people out there of mixed ethnicity, especially hapa. It does my soul good to see younger hapas running around in all parts of the country, even here in Vermont. I have a few of my own and in spite of their blue eyes and blond hair, there is something about the shape of their eyes that you can't quite place. Yeah, I like that.

My hope is that by the time they are old enough to care, no one else will either.

So you want to know about me?

Okay, I'll tell you. But first, go wash your hands, it's almost time for dinner. Hey! Stop teasing your brother and put that screwdriver down while you are at it. Actually, could you put that back in Daddy's toolbox? The red one that's open on the floor in the living room? Oh crap! Yeah okay babe, I'll do it just as soon as I get this g-d diaper on your sister. What honey? No, no. Mama didn't say a bad word. No sweetie, I really didn't say a bad word and please don't rifle through my pockets for a quarter to put in the Jar, 'kay? What? Say that again honey and could you say it after you take your fingers out of your mouth? Hmmm...? Oh, sure babe. You can have a snack. There is cheese and crac....hey, wait! I didn't say you could have a whole bag of M n M's! No, I didn't. No...I...didn't. Put...it...back...right ...now. NOW. You have to the count of three and then you get a time out on the stairs. One...TWO...Did you hear me say "two"? If you don't stop shoving those in your mouth and put them back, YOU ARE GETTING A TIME OUT. I said TWO...THR-...that's better. Thanks for listening, now go get on your snowpants and boots. You're going sledding, outside for 4 hours so Mama can get some dishes done and have a drink. What? No sweetie, Mama doesn't drink wine at 8 in the morning. I meant coffee. Yup. Strong, black, lip puckering, brain numbing coffee. Love ya. Kisses.