It was a muggy night in August, just weeks before my senior year of high school was about to start, and I was alone with my parents. (That isn't something that happens very often when you have three siblings.) I'm not sure how the conversation came about, just that I was very nervous. I'm afraid it might have gone something like this:
Mom: So, how 'bout that heat?Because sometimes, when I'm anxious about something, I have trouble following conversations. (I also have trouble following conversations even when I'm not anxious about anything, but that's not your problem now, is it?) If memory serves, it was quiet for a while. I remember my face feeling red, which tends to happen anytime I talk in front of anybody, and my parents exchanging one of those very parental glances, the kind that lets you know they've secretly been discussing this very subject behind your back for weeks or months or possibly years. Then my dad slowly extended his hand, not to pull me into an emotional embrace but to demand the $50 he bet my mom that I was a big queer.
Dad: Yeah, it's really something.
Me: I'm gay! I'm a homosexual! I like girls!
Anyway, read the interview with the Patrick family. They all sound very cool.