My kids and I flew out to the Midwest to see my Dad and Stepmother for Christmas. It’s late, the kids are in bed, and we’re sitting around talking over beers:
My Dad: “So, I feel like you’ve hardly been telling me anything about your life, what have you been up to?”
Me: “Well, you know I’ve been working, and things have been going pretty well with my mom and step-dad helping with the kids–”
Dad: “Yeah, that arrangement seems to work for everyone but you.”
Me: “No…I like it, it gives me the opportunity to go out dancing, which I’ve been doing a lot.”
Dad: “Oh yeah? What kind of dancing? Hip Hop?”
Me: (Cagily) “Yeah, or top-ten…whatever they want to play.”
Dad: “So what, are you going out to clubs?”
“Yeah” I said, straightening my spine. “To Lesbian Clubs.”
“But–” My dad sputtered. “How are you going to meet a man that way?”
“She isn’t trying to.” My Stepmother interjected with her gentle laugh.
“But–” My dad asked. “Don’t you ever want to be with a man?”
It’s a Merry Coming Out (again) Christmas.