Conversations About Homosexuality And Boy Scouts And Britney Spears

…between mom and kids.

“Why can’t we join Boy Scouts?” Youngest asked.

“Because they discriminate against gay people,” I said.

“And we have gay people in our family,” Youngest suddenly remembered. “Like Uncle Rita. She’s gay.”

“Right,” I said. “But even if we didn’t have gay people in our family, we wouldn’t join Boy Scouts. What if they discriminated against black people or kids in wheelchairs? We can’t join any group that says certain other kids can’t join.”

"Guess what I saw on television?" Oldest asked. "Two women acting crazy..."

"Crazy how?"

"It was Britney and Madonna" Husband said. "They showed it on the news while we were picking up food at the deli."

"Great," I said.

"That was gay," Oldest said. "Right Mommy?"

"In more ways than one, kid. More ways than one."

…between best friends.

“My son is joining Boy Scouts,” Becky said, anticipating ‘tude.

"That’s great," I said. "Boy Scouts do a lot of good work.”

I know. I’m a doll.

Becky and Family came over that week and her son asked if we’d like to buy popcorn for his unit. Or lodge. Or whatever the h*ll they call those mini-cults of intolerance.

I know. Awkward.

I refrained from my usual rant about how I don’t fund hate groups. The scouts who approach me in the supermarket parking lot *love* that sh*t. But I *love* this kid so I went easy and blamed it on an allergy or something.

“Seriously?” Becky asked. “I mean, I’m not thrilled they discriminate against gay people and atheists either, but - ”

“Atheists, too?” I asked. “Great. Well, look at it this way, your kid might get in there and start a revolution or something. At least he’s a tolerant child with a good heart. Maybe he’ll be a voice for change.”

“Something you should support…”

Long pause. Again. Awkward.

“Yeah, no,” I said.

“No support of any kind? No love?” she asked.

“Look,” I said. “When he’s in middle school and discovers Goth, I'll let him borrow my black nail polish. In high school when he feels misunderstood, I’ll make him a margarita and listen to his litany of complaints. Heck. I’ll even let him borrow my Limited Edition Grateful Dead recordings when he’s in college. That’s gotta count for something.”

Long pause. Again. Awkward.

“You’re wonderful, Kate. Simply wonderful.”