Why don't people think?

So three people assumed she was a boy today. I never really minded the fairly frequent "how old is he?" comments that presumed gender on the basis of a blue or green stripe on what appeared to me to be fairly gender-neutral clothing. Likewise the "He's so cute!" that always went along with a particular turquoise t-shirt and yellow shorts ensemble I dressed her in on occasion.

But today had me baffled. Because she was wearing a navy onesie with a frilly, shirred collar trimmed in white, so you couldn't miss the little ruffles around her neck. And her pants, which may very well be the cutest garment EVER CREATED, were sherbet-hued with embroidered butterflies and flowers and pixies for all I know, little flared calf-length legs with a baby pink ribbon belt. They were so girly I never would have picked them out myself, but they were hand-me-downs I'd fallen in love with.

But these morons see blue, their brains seize up and they spout "does he sleep the night?" despite the fact that a baby Quentin Crisp would have rejected that particular outfit as too fey.

And yeah, they mean well. But why don't people think?