Once upon a time there lived a beige woman.
Her hair was beige. Her clothes were beige.
She lived in a beige house and drove a beige car.
She ate beige food and watched beige television.
Everything in her life was beige.
The beige woman met a beige man.
They fell in beige love and had a small beige wedding.
They lived in a beige house and drove a beige truck.
They ate beige food and watched beige television.
Everything in their life was beige.
Much to the beige couple's surprise,
The beige woman became pregnant...
Only two months into the beige marriage!
The beige woman had been told by many beige doctors
That she would never have beige babies.
The beige couple were ecstatic. :o)
They lived in the beige house and drove the beige truck.
They ate the beige food and watched the beige television.
The beige man worked his beige job.
The beige woman grew. And grew. And GREW.
The time for the beige baby's arrival came.
The delivery wasn't exactly beige.
It was more like taupe.
At least from the beige woman's perspective.
The doctor tried to assure her that things were beige.
One look at the newborn told the beige woman
That her beige world was no longer beige.
The couple's long awaited miracle was turquoise!
A 13 pound turquoise girl.
The doctor insisted that the babe was beige.
After a six weeks stay in the NICU
(Where many specialists agreed that, although
Funny looking, the turquoise baby was beige),
The beige man and beige woman brought
Their turquoise baby to their beige home.
They ate their beige food.
They watched their beige television.
They rode around in their beige truck.
They decorated the beige crib with Pooh Bear.
The turquoise baby seemed happy with that. :o)
The beige woman became increasingly aware that
The turquoise baby wasn't at all like a beige baby.
She didn't like beige food.
She didn't like beige television.
She preferred technicolor.
The turquoise baby didn't laugh like beige babies.
She didn't walk like beige babies.
She didn't talk like beige babies.
She didn't look like beige babies.
The beige woman knew the baby was definitely turquoise.
More "specialists" insisted the turquoise baby was beige.
One even said that the turquoise baby was just spoiled.
The beige woman knew that she was not.
The beige woman was called a worry wart.
And an overly concerned mother. Hmph.
The beige woman was relentless in her search for answers.
God sustained her. Five years.
Finally, the genetic specialist was seen.
She told the beige woman the turquoise baby (now a Turquoise little girl) was, indeed, turquoise.
The turquoise little girl is now a turquoise teenager.
She is not like beige teenagers.
She doesn't eat beige food. She doesn't drive a beige car.
She doesn't want to work at Dairy Queen.
She watches The Waltons on the television.
Any type of financial or medical aid has always
Been denied the turquoise child. The beiges stretch.
The beige man works hard at his beige job to provide.
The beige woman cares for the turquoise child 24/7/365.
The turquoise teen has always been homeschooled.
The beige couple have hired a beige lawyer.
She is also beige, but deals in turquoise cases.
*A big, beige sigh of relief inserted here.*
The beige woman has been consumed with records.
Hundreds and hundreds of medical records.
An interesting phone call has been held.
The genetics specialist has told the beige woman
That the turquoise teen may not be just turquoise...
She may also be purple!
Purple? The beige woman doesn't know purple!
The beige woman is now on a new quest to learn purple.
May God sustain her.