Identity crisis

This would be something to which my mother would respond, "Oh, it's all in your head." But it's bothering me, and no one judges in cyber space (well, at least not on my blog), so here it is. Yesterday we took Paul to a children's museum. It was very crowded. He impulsively ran from thing to thing, rarely pausing to check if I was following him. Okay, never pausing to check if I was following him. Whenever we are in places like museums, I get a lot of exercise. And a lot of looks. Transracial families are everywhere, right? But when my Asian son runs into a room seemingly unsupervised (I am chasing him as fast as I can), people look around for the Asian mom. And she's not there. I am. "Are you the mother?" No wait. I usually get, "Are you with him?" Yes, I'm his date for the evening. Of course I am - why do you think I am out of breath? Then I wonder. If he was white (or I was not) would people still ask me that? I look around for other children running with wild abandon into unknown situations to see if their mothers' identities are in question. Nope, just mine. Maybe it is in my head. I know Paul doesn't care. "I have brown eyes like you mommy. And black hair like Papa." I guess I need to focus on that innocence and stop worrying about what other people think. Ah, crud now I do sound like my mother.