Our First Pride As Parents Of A Young Gay Son

By Huffington Post

Pride has always been one of the highlights of our summer. Since we moved to a metropolitan area that was large enough to have a parade, we have attended the festivities every year. It’s fun. We get to cheer for our friends who march (or sometimes march ourselves), run into other friends we haven’t seen in forever, and occasionally be surprised by a relative riding in the place of honor on a float. It’s a happy day when we can gather and know that everyone around us supports equality.

When our children came along, we didn’t see a reason to stop, and we’ve never been anything but welcome. Once, when I was heavily pregnant and had a desperate need to pee (as all pregnant women do all the time), a group of lesbians held up the line for me at one of the only available bathrooms on the parade route. When the boys were teeny-tiny, I nursed them in a portable chair on the sidelines as excitement passed by on the road in front of me. As the kids got older, the parade became about the race for candy and beads.

Read the whole story at Huffington Post

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Image courtesy of The Huffington Post