Back in the late 50's when my son Spike was born, I had a girlfriend I went to school with. She was gay and one day her partner was attacked and raped. As a result she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy just a few days apart from Spike at the same hospital. She had to go to work to support her son as the man who attacked her was now in prison. I offered to babysit for her. When I had to go out, I put the both of them in the same carriage. When folks would stop to look at them I would tell them that the babies were twins. I got some horrified looks. One had big blue eyes and blond fuzz on his head, the other was black. Did I mention that my girlfriend's partner was black and she was white? The two of them were breaking ground on two levels at that time. Civil Rights had not become a major issue in the country yet. About five years later my girlfriend committed suicide. She just couldn't stand up anymore to all the problems the two of them faced on a daily basis. A year later, the mother followed her partner. I was babysitting her son when the cops came to my door to pick up the baby and gave me the news.
A year later I got a beautiful enormous bouquet of flowers and an eloquent note from the baby's grandparents thanking me for all I had done for their daughter and accepting her as she was. We kept in touch for the next coule of years. They even sent me pictures of baby Walter. My son's twin.
I told ya, I just luv to shake folks up and make them think. And they sure did when they looked into that carriage and I told them that the babies were twins.
