That Gay Boy

(Not that there's anything wrong with it!)

Relating the story of the gay boy requires two prefaces. I will probably kill the punch line before you get to it, but bear with me.

1. Dylan is in this phase of identifying strangers that we encounter in various places by the color of clothing they have on. The man stocking the shelf at the grocery store in a black shirt is perhaps "that black guy" over there (as in, "Hey Mom! What is that black guy doing over there?!" said in the voice of a toddler with no concept of an inside voice), or the girl with her mom at the library might be "the green girl and red lady" to name a few examples. It makes for interesting conversations with complete strangers whom I will probably never see again.

2. While it is possible to have an intelligible conversation with Dylan on virtually any subject known to man (or at least imaginable by a 3 year old), he has a few pronunciation issues, especially with the consonant blends. School is sool, bread is bed, and so on.

Do you get where I am going with this? Have I ruined it for you yet? Keep reading, the punch line is worth it.

So today we're at Chic-fil-a (our absolute favorite family friendly fast food place, BTW) enjoying the delightful toddler play area after a lovely lunch of various chicken items. Dylan befriends another child in the play area who happens to be a three year old boy. "Mom, that boy is thee, just like me!" (It's not a typo.) They are playing like three year-olds and friend decides to visit his mom sitting just outside the door to the play area. He opens the door to leave and Dylan starts to follow him out. We're sitting inside the play area with him and don't want him to go out, thus the following dialogue:

ME: Dylan, stay in here with us.

DYLAN: (yelling with door still open) BUT MOM! THAT GAY BOY IS MY FEND! I WANT TO GO WITH THAT GAY BOY!!

ME: (can't stop laughing, door is still open, then finally) What?!!

DYLAN: (door is now closed so said boy's mom can't hear explanation) That boy's shirt is gay just like mine and he's my fend!

Ooohhh. Not exactly the conversation I want to have with gray boy's mom. Sorry lavender lady!

(I'm so glad that gray boy's shirt didn't have a flag on it.)