Very Proud Mom

So I’m watching a movie earlier when I realize that my son is explaining to his two friends about one of the pictures on our refrigerator–the one of our terrific San Francisco friends Jeff and Bill. Of course, I stop listening to the screen and really tune in to the 11-year-old boy conversation.

Let’s just say most 11-year-old boys ’round these parts aren’t that familiar with pictures of sharply-dressed gay men bearing flowers (they were dressed up to serve dinner at their church). I heard a couple of strange noises from the guest boys, then Frick says something along the lines of, “This is Jeff, and this is Bill. Jeff taught my dad in college and that’s how they became friends, and Bill is a great cook. And he’s really nice.” And he proceeds to explain that yes, they’re gay, yes, they’re a couple, yes, we hung out with them in California, and yes, they are totally cool in a tone of voice that basically lets his friends know that there will be no gay man bashing in our kitchen, thank you very much.

I look over at S and we both think–and he says–“I could cry.” Me, too. There’s hope for this old world yet.