I love autumn in Sydney. You get the European summer – the warm days, cool nights. Gelato sticky webbed fingers, twenty three degree sea water in Coogee and third degree burns from the midget interrogators in the back seat.
Struggling to find a car park in congested Coooooogee, as the boys call it, last Saturday afternoon – I don’t know how we go onto the subject of gay, but we did. No wait, it was Chicky singing Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree… when we got to the bit about how gay your life must be, Chicky is matter of fact without any probing ‘What? It’s a different kind of gay’. I turn the car off.
‘You’re gay’ the accusation was playfully delivered from the back seat in size 4 midget pants. I was thrown – again – dammit, who invented children?
‘Yes, I, am – gay. But that’s, not just what you can call me’ I was flailing. I wanted to frame it as being ‘Dad’ but being many things. Oh to hell with it, it was funny as well.
‘Do you know what gay means?’ I look over the back seat.
‘Yeah, happy’ Chick is eyeballing me.
‘Yes, and I think you know what else it means’ I push further as Chicks eyes head toward his knees.
‘It means also, that someone who likes….’ I offered him a chance to fill in the blanks.
‘…the same type?’ Beau came in with the big brother I-know-everything-and-I’m-
‘Yes, that’s right. People who like the same – boys who like boys and girls who like girls’.
We leave the car and stroll down the road. Its warm, sunny and we’re all pushing each others buttons. I start.
‘So, who else is gay that we know of?’
Chick is holding my hand as we walk. ‘I’m not gay’ he states. Running behind us is Beau. ‘I will be Dad!’ I think he felt I was lonely out there being the only gay dad in the world.
We stopped at the football oval to watch the game for a moment. Our true colours came out immediately.
‘Dad, is 6 plus 6, 12?’ Chick was adding up the scoreboard.
‘See that, it’s what’s-his-face Dad’ Beau was recognising someone I have no idea about.
I stood staring at the legs in shorts on the field. ‘Uh huh.’
