February 12th, 2004


As I was leaving the house this morning, Tandra was telling me about some of the dreams she'd been having.

Tandra: "Oh, and I had a dream that we had a baby. And it was black."
Me: "That would be cool."

And it would, too. Seriously.

Growing up, in elementary school and through most of high school, my best friend was Adam Scott Thomas-Brashier. Bit of a mouthful. His mother has some feminist beliefs, or had, or something. I don't know. I think Adam once referred to her as a femi-nazi, but I don't think she's all that radical. I think he just wanted to say the word "femi-nazi." Anyhow, she didn't want to give up her last name when she got married, so even though Adam's parents are married, they both have different last names. And the lucky kids get them both. (Adam used to grumble that Brashier didn't come first, otherwise he could have been near the front of the lines by alphabetical last name, instead of near the back.)

The first time I met Adam's little brother Nathan, I was still too young to really understand what a unique situation it was, and I was too young to categorize people. I mean, I kind of had this sense of surprise that Nathan belonged to the rest of the family, but I got over that and accepted the fact almost immediately. From then on it never occurred to me that Nathan was black - he was just Nathan.

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