(no subject)
"What a beautiful little boy," was what I heard, coming out of the grocery store, pushing the stroller that my son Jackson had fallen asleep in. Poor little guy was all tuckered out from running around with momma all day. But, this momma doesn't have a regular series to work on; she's doing the guest star shuffle until something more permanent comes along. So, it's only right that Jacky winds up with me on long all-day shopping trips. After all, Aly's taken him to the set to give me a break.
Back to the story:
"What a beautiful little boy," says this cooing, grey-haired old lady. The harmless kind that you'd expect to give out muffins to trick-or-treaters. I thanked her profusely, because Jackson's the best and brightest thing in my life, and she presses a flier into my hand.
I didn't even bother looking at it until we got back to the car. I just set it aside on the dashboard while I belted Jacky into his carseat, and propped his current favorite companion, Spongebob, in his lap. Before I turned the key, I remembered the pamphlet that sweet old granny lady gave me.
An invitation to a protest. A church-led protest. Of Disney. The happiest place on Earth.
For actually honoring the unions of same-sex couples, and offering them the same benefits as everyone else.
She saw me pushing my child in his stroller, saw the engagement ring on my finger, and assumed I'd be a fundamentalist asshole. The flyer sailed out of my window in a ball on the 405. Thank god for the Alanis cd I'd popped in on a whim. At least it gave me a focus through which I could vent a little by singing.
Bless his little heart, Jacky slept through it all.
Alyson and I have set a tentative date, pending any last minute reschedules due to work. It's December 20th. Still working on formal invitations, but I expect you all there. Don't make me cranky. I bite.
Back to the story:
"What a beautiful little boy," says this cooing, grey-haired old lady. The harmless kind that you'd expect to give out muffins to trick-or-treaters. I thanked her profusely, because Jackson's the best and brightest thing in my life, and she presses a flier into my hand.
I didn't even bother looking at it until we got back to the car. I just set it aside on the dashboard while I belted Jacky into his carseat, and propped his current favorite companion, Spongebob, in his lap. Before I turned the key, I remembered the pamphlet that sweet old granny lady gave me.
An invitation to a protest. A church-led protest. Of Disney. The happiest place on Earth.
For actually honoring the unions of same-sex couples, and offering them the same benefits as everyone else.
She saw me pushing my child in his stroller, saw the engagement ring on my finger, and assumed I'd be a fundamentalist asshole. The flyer sailed out of my window in a ball on the 405. Thank god for the Alanis cd I'd popped in on a whim. At least it gave me a focus through which I could vent a little by singing.
Bless his little heart, Jacky slept through it all.
Alyson and I have set a tentative date, pending any last minute reschedules due to work. It's December 20th. Still working on formal invitations, but I expect you all there. Don't make me cranky. I bite.