My son, McKay, cracks me up sometimes. He was having a play date this afternoon at our new friends house. They just moved here from Boston, but are originally from India. They're so great - they get the whole "Boston" thing, from the 'god love yas' to the Red Sox, plus - just like us - they're trying to navigate their way through the idiosyncrasies that are California. Santosh (the mom) had a big container of those Danish butter cookies for the kids to snack on. McKay gets so excited, he says, "Are you Danish? We're Danish, too!" Santosh laughed and said that, no, they were not Danish, they were Indian. He then got excited and said, "Like the pilgrim Indians?" Um, not quite. She then gave him a crash course in Hindu, most of which was lost on him. So glad I'm raising such a racially sensitive son.
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