We’re gathered at Kristen’s house, three of us sprawled on the carpet, three on the couch, novels open in our laps. We are discussing a character in the book – a mother who doesn’t know her teenage son is gay.
“Well, I know one thing for sure,” I say, straightening up and splaying my paperback flat on the rug. “If my son were gay, as his mother, I’d know it, even if he didn’t tell me. I’m sure I would just know it.”
There’s a pause as my fellow book club members digest my emphatic declaration.
…I’m over at the Lincoln Journal Star today, writing the second in a series of posts about making assumptions. Will you join me over there for the rest of the story? (and if you missed the first post about making assumptions, you can read it here).
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