Get Used To It

I was combing children’s hair yesterday, when my oldest asked,

“Would you marry Daddy again?”

One million ways – at least – to answer that question, but I know my audience. They wanna hear one word. So I gave it to them.

“Yes,” I said.

Out of nowhere, my youngest does this uncanny impersonation of an *sshole.

“Boys and girls can get married, but boys can’t marry boys and girls can’t marry girls.”

“Says who?” I asked.

“Grandpa.”

Okay, I made up that last part. When I asked for names, the kid just shrugged his shoulders. He may be a bigot, but he ain’t no dummy.

“Well,” I said, “that’s not true. Some boys marry boys and some girls marry girls.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

Both children said this in unison, little noses wrinkled in confusion. I then named my own names – relatives who are here and queer. Eyebrows raised, a few questions about “gay people” and then my youngest repeated himself.

“So weird!”

That’s it, I decided, no more NASCAR. In his defense, though, the tone of voice was more fascination than anything else.

“That’s the way God made them,” I said.

Both kids nodded and we were off to school. I discovered the results of this latest study in the paper and wondered if Current Event assignments were out of a kindergartner’s league.

Still. Makes for interesting table talk during dinner. And proves once again that Mommy is always right.