Racism is alive and kicking

...in Central Kentucky.

On Thursday I went to M's Valentine's Day party to join in the festivities. I sat down next to the only other visitor that day, a woman who appeared to be someone's grandma. I sat and chatted politely with her about nothing in particular, watching with masked anxiety as my child smeared cupcake icing all over herself. Then grandma proceeded to tell me that every time she comes to visit, her grandson is always sitting next to a "little (whispered) B-L-A-C-K girl."

I really didn't have words for this. "MMmmm" was about all I could muster.

Her explanation for such seemingly peculiar behavior was that as a baby her grandson was taken care of by a "very nice, old (again whispered, but not spelled out) black woman. That must be why he likes her so much. So cute."

But I didn't believe her. She didn't think it was cute at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure she was masking anxiety, too. Only it wasn't about the kind of mess you can clean up with soap and water.

[Best responses I could have had?
1. Oh, her? That's my daughter Zahara!
2. Well, I hope they never play doctor. You know she'd probably get pregnant even though she's only 5.
3. Wow - a real live racist! I've heard about you, but I really thought you were just a myth, like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy...only a really twisted tooth fairy who rips your teeth out in the middle of your sleep, leaving only a bloody hole and a wooden nickle.

Anyone else?]