Who Are You?

Jonah has become obsessed with strangers lately. Everywhere we go, I find myself blushing, as he shouts at each person we pass, "Who are you?" or "I'm Jonah!" Some people are kind and forgiving and answer him. Others just keep walking, as if they didn't hear anything, which is what I would do.

Today at the playground, it was a bit more embarrassing than usual. A little blonde girl started climbing the steps to the slide. He pointed at her, and asked her mother, "What is that?"

"My daughter." she replied, not too kindly.

"Yours daughter?" he mumbled, intimidated by her demeanor.

I stepped into the conversation. "Jonah, you need to say, 'Who is that?' or, 'What's her name?' It's not nice to say, 'What is that?'"

"Oh," said Jonah.

By this time, the little blonde girl was screeching and pitching a fit because she didn't know how to climb down the steps, and she refused to tolerate her mother's attempts to help.

Jonah sighed. The slide was inaccessible. Suddenly, the little blonde girl didn't seem so interesting.