The boys and I were discussing how some boys like boys and some girls like girls the way that Mommy and Daddy like each other.

“What?!” asked Sam. “How do they know who dances the girl part at their wedding?!”
He was also surprised when I told him he already knew some people like this. He asked me to tell him who. I told him it didn’t matter who because he was already treating them like he would anyone else.

Then I made a Dad-joke that the only thing that I care about isn’t who likes who, but is who does their chores. And then they started punching me. I grabbed them up in my arms for hugs and held them tight as I thought of those parents who had once done the same to their children, only to one night get the call that they had died in a massacre at a nightclub simply for being different.

For the parents who lost a child in Orlando.
For the mom who told her friends that her son had cancer when he was dying of AIDS because she was afraid they’d abandon her.
For the girl who ended her life so young because of the vicious and relentless bullying from her classmates.
For the community that had cobbled together a family in a nightclub only to have it taken through violence.

For mine and yours and theirs.

Let us raise the next generation without the fear and notion of an “otherness” that our LGBT brothers and sisters endure today. #lovewins