We're Not Heroes

“Whatever, K. That’s your choice, you do you. Just go find a boyfriend or a long-lived parrot so you’re not alone forever”

Not having kids? Not a big deal to them. They got a GrandKitten (lol my parents and your mom are similar!)

But me being Forever Alone™? BIG FUCKING DEAL.

So big a deal, in fact, that my own mother felt the need, as I was mid-bite into a taco, to tell me she didn’t give a shit if I was gay if that’s what I was worried about because “They’ll love me no matter what.”. If you’ve ever wanted to choke on a shitty Taco Bell Chalupa in a Prius with your mother earnestly waiting to hear your nonexistent Gay Confession™ I can tell you it is equal parts painful and hysterical. 

“Nah fam, I’m just awkward af but thanks for reaffirming that you’re not a butthole I really appreciate it and am flattered.”

“Are you in love with [best gal pal]?”

“Ma I’m eating a bloody taco right now I am in love with sour cream ok? Chill I just get super awkward around dudes. Cuz I’m not pretty.”

Which, by the way, never say to your mother because then you get subjected to a confidence building pep-talk that is equal parts flattering and equal parts mortifyingly embarrassing.

And yes, she’s never asked me again but it does linger in the air. Like an omnipresent force…or leftover Taco Bell. ;)

My dad decided to inform me that if I was going to date girls that was ok too.