Genevieve was drinking the very last bit of tea out of the pitcher when I noticed her staring at the bottom of her cup. There were little flecks of black, tea grounds or leaves or whatever mysterious substance it is in tea bags. Then I noticed the look of horrified revulsion on her face, as if it was rabbit turds in her cup.
"It's ok," I said. "It's tea leaves." Relief washed over her face at my calm reaction. I sat there wishing I had screamed and insisted it was baby spiders.
"It's yucky," she said, much reassured.
A couple days ago I was doing Imogen's hair for school. She stood looking at us both in the mirror and said "We're not the same white, Mommy. I'm bright white."
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