YES YES YES YES YES!!!

YES, YES, YES!!! Arizona…beating Mississippi at something since…just right now!!!

My Apologies…This Is Going To Be A Rough Ride.

Because the feel of this entire blog is largely ridiculousness, I hesitated to to write about this here, but my heart is hurting so, I feel that I must.

Last night, one of Caolinn’s best friends tried to come out to his parents. In his usual, brilliant, witty, amazing way, he tried to make it easy and sweet, and he (and we) were all hoping for a loving and caring reception to his moment of brave honesty, but what happened instead, was that his parents yelled at him, berated him, told him that they wouldn’t accept it, that he wasn’t allowed to be gay under their roof, and threw away the gift he gave them. As a parent, as someone who loves him, and as a human being who isn’t an ignorant bigot…my heart broke, not only for him, but for all the kids who have faced the same response or worse. We’ve told him that our phones are on, and if, at any point, he needs us to come get him, day or night, we will, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

What I really want to do is bang down his parent’s door and tell them… Your son is brilliant, tall, handsome, and funny. He speaks more languages fluently, at sixteen, than I can say “hello” in at forty. He can program a computer, design a robot, once founded his own micro-nation (legally…I kid you not), and is a loyal and true friend. He’s also gay. And you don’t deserve him.

Thank you for listening to me, guys…I promise I’ll be happier tomorrow.  Probably because I stole their kid and egged their house.

Maybe It Was The Fact That I Fart Rainbows.

PWDUB=Person Who Doesn’t Understand Bumper Stickers

PWDUB: “I didn’t realize you were gay.”

Me: (pause) “Well….that’s two of us.”

PWDUB: “Huh?”

Me: “I’m not gay.”

PWDUB: “Oh…but that sticker on your car…I thought…”

Me: “That sticker means I support equal human rights.”

PWDUB: “Oh…I thought…but, you’re always posting on Facebook about…

Me: “Yeah, that stuff doesn’t mean I’m gay…it means I’m not a dick.”

(the most awkward pause of all time…)

Me: “So…wanna talk about how much I love penis, or were you hoping to ask me if you could borrow my Indigo Girls album, and I just ruined everything?”

 

 

A post without the word penis anywhere in it…oh wait…yeah…yeah, there it is.

Today, I am proud to be an American.  I am proud that a victory was won for liberty, equality, and all of the other values we hold dear.  Today, I am reminded of something that happened with my twins, when they were just eight years old, that gives me not only hope for this next generation, but also for my sons as men and husbands, because, I think they’ll be pretty kickass.

I was doing the daily run around town, picking everybody up, and my sons were in the backseat.  My best friend, Matt, called me, because he and his partner had been in an argument, and so my sons, as it turns out, were listening to my end of the conversation.

*hanging up*

Xavier: “Mom, why did Chris buy Uncle Matt flowers?  That’s so stupid.”

Me: (cautiously…not sure if it was because they’re men, and wanting to get clarification) “Why do you think that Chris buying Uncle Matt flowers is stupid?”

Xavier: “Because they’re fighting, and Uncle Matt is going to know that’s the only reason he’s buying them.  He’s just trying to change the subject, and it’s only going to make Uncle Matt madder.”

Me: (Dying of absolute pride.)

I’ll end this with someone who has found the absolute sweet spot between hilarity, genius, and meaning, Ash Beckham,