"He knows.
It doesn’t matter that he’s little, and doesn’t seem to know anything.
He knows she’s different, that her family is different, different than us certainly, and just different, period.
She is the queen of the playground, with her long hair blowing in the wind and her flip-flops scattered among the detritus as she walks barefoot along the top of the monkey bars.
He is mesmerized, you are mesmerized. She is a vision, and she is nothing like him. She is fearless and free to be whatever it is she wants to be.
You wonder if her awesomeness has something to do with the fact that she has two dads, but you do not know. You don’t even know what you don’t know.
What you do know is that the dad who doesn’t stay at home tends to be in the playground at night like you when the workday is over. And that he smiles a lot.
What you also know is that your kid thinks he knows something about some part of this, and he wants, even needs, answers about all of it.
So he asks."
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