Him: How many kids do you have? Me: 5 Him: Like all 5 are your kids? Me: What do you actually want to know? Him: What? Me: I have 5 kids. They are my kids. Do you want to know how many pregnancies I had? How many births? If some of my kids are adopted? If I breastfed? What do you actually want to know? Him: *silence* OK, so I barked at the dude. But he is neither the first nor last person to ask me some variation of the question, "Which of these kids are REALLY yours?" Yo. I just told you. They are all mine. I cook their meals and wash their pee-soaked clothes. I bandage their scrapes and clip their finger-nails. I zip up their coats and braid their hair. I read with them and play with them and sing with them. I hold them and comfort them. Every. Single. Day. They call me Mama. All five of them call me Mama. And why shouldn't they? Aren't I doing everything to fulfill that roll? Look, I'm happy to answer your earnest questions. One woman said, "...