So my son says…

“Give me a ride to Margie’s house?”

This means an hour, round trip. I say; “I can take you, or bring you back– not both. How will you get home?”

“I probably won’t come home,” says The Boy.

“You can’t spend the night at Margie’s, can you?” I remember that rule, from having to go pick him up unexpectedly.

The Boy looks at me like I’m crazy; “She’s a lesbian, mom!”

Part of me is thinking, dammit, because I know there was some strong attraction between Margie and The Boy, But I ask; “And her mom knows…”

“Oh, yeah, they had that talk and everything.” The Boy says, dismissively.