"Where did you get them?"

A Happy American Family

Question asked by a TSA screener of a gay couple with two babies going through security. How special is that? I'm a divorced Dad and my kids live in another state and I frequently have to pick them up from and take them to the airport. Nobody has ever asked me to "prove" that my kids are my kids. I've traveled with my kids on numerous occasions, nobody has ever asked me for a birth certificate. This is shocking. Although I expect you would get the same thing if an African-American couple were travelling with a caucasian child. That's just how we roll in America.

I want to talk about the underlying responsibility of being a gay dad. We're trying so hard to fit in. We're trying to get married and share insurance policies and we're trying to go on typical family vacations to see Grandma and Grandpa. I even did my best to describe the normal madness of traveling with small ones. But there's nothing normal about turning the car around when you're half way to the airport because you forgot your daughters birth certificate. That's right. Having Rose and Evan's original, authenticated birth certificate was the other thing this baby roadie had to have on his person. It mattered as much as infant Zantac and warm hats and clean diapers. Keep in mind, we were two men traveling with two little girls. If you look at it with a crooked eye you can make yourself see things. Can you imagine if you had to deal with indignity of having to explain your family? Even worse, proving that your biological daughter was yours?

Prejudice and bigotry are not family values.