Adopting America – overheard conversation

I’m alone at the cinema waiting for the movie to start, half way through my first box of Raisinets when I hear the following conversation in the row behind me. .

Woman One: “You’re a saint, Sherry. Adopting that little girl no one else wanted. I am just so proud of you!”

Woman Two: “We’d have preferred an infant, but adoption’s so hard these days, especially when you’re older.”

The sound of popcorn munching.

Woman Two: “Just think what kind of a life she’d be facing if you hadn’t showed up! You’re a saint, Sherry!”

“Excuse me,” I say, turning towards them, “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I was adopted.”

They’re smiling at me. There’s nothing like an English accent at times like these.

“Really?”

“Yes. And isn’t it true that you are adopting a child because you couldn’t have children of your own and wanted a child very much?”

“Yes,” says Woman Two.

“Then you’re not adopting because you’re a saint, are you?”

“I suppose not.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, honestly I don’t, but I just think people should be honest about what they’re doing, that’s all. Raisinet anyone?”