Being a parent is an exercise in expecting the unexpected. And yet, despite years of experience, I?m still floored by my quiet, thoughtful and incredibly self-possessed son. The best example?to date, at least?happened on a regular weekday evening. My husband, my son and I were sitting around the dining room table and, like usual, I was trying my hardest to draw out some juicy details about their day. With these two, it?s always a bit of a one-sided Ping-Pong match: I lob a question over the net, and they spike incredibly succinct answers right past me.
?How was your day"?
?Fine.?
?Did you do anything fun"?
?Yep.?
After a few such attempts, I just gave up.
That was the moment our seven-year-old son came out. He took a bite of chicken and announced, in his matter-of-fact way, ?I hope you know I?m gay.? It was one of those epic parenting moments the handbook definitely does not cover. Thankfully, my mouth was full of chicken, which gave me a few panicked seconds to conjure the kind of response that could possibly convey the feelings of overwhelming love, worry and protectiveness rushing over me. I fervently wished there was someone with more experience?or, better yet, a degree in child psychology?who I could consult before responding. But no such luck: There wasn?t a single expert hiding under the table.
So I looked at my husband, took a deep breath and mustered a, ?We love you no matter what, and your feelings might change as you get older and that?s OK, too.? I thi...