And that's when the kid turns to me and says "We get donuts now?!"
And I whisper to him, "One more song. Sit down."
Then all the other kids look at eachother like they're saying "Donuts? Did he just say donuts? That's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Donuts!"
So this past Sunday, as is my custom, I drive us to the donut shop, me, Tony, Nick and our friend's 13-year-old. Now pulling into the parking space in front of the donut shop, I hit the breaks too hard, and spilled the kid's water bottle, so the three of them went into the donut shop, while I cleaned up the puddle in the back seat.
As I walk into the donut shop, some worried-looking lady about my age looks me right in the eye and points to Nick, who's standing in line with Tony and the 13-year-old and says "Are you adopting him?"
And the question kind of takes me by surprise, because why would you ask me if my child is adopted, right? We look alike, and most people just assume he's my biological child. And why would she say "Are you adopting him?" (indicating that the adoption is not yet final) instead of "Is he adopted?"?
But anyway, I answer the lady in the affirmative, and she asks me where I'm adopting him from, and I tell her the name of the adoption agency Tony and I used.
Then she says to me "They allow gays to adopt boys? Homosexuals?"
And that's when I knew this conversation was not going to a good place, so I just said "Yes," and turned away, and as I did the lady said to no one in particular, "Gays, these two!" and she left.
And I didn't know to feel glad that she left or disappointed that she didn't stick around and ask more questions. I remember Barbara Jordan (one of my heroes growing up) used to say you should talk to people about their prejudices, not just walk away from them or shout them down. But I find that's not always so easy in practice.