Gay Dad: LOL

I was walking to the newsagents last Saturday when I heard someone call out my name. I looked over and there was a figure I vaguely recognised as the mother of one of Ed's friends from school.

"Sorry to accost you, but there's something I felt I should tell you," she said, with a concerned expression. I wondered if Ed, my eight-year-old, had been causing trouble, or whether she just felt my hi-tops didn't go with the jeans I was wearing.

"I was driving Ed and Jack home from school a few days ago," she continued, "and I'm afraid I heard Jack ask Ed if you were gay."

I stared blankly.

"I suppose I wanted to apologise, really, in case Ed was upset and had said anything to you."

I wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Oh gosh, how strange," I spluttered. "What did Ed say?"

"Well, he didn't seem that bothered at the time. He told Jack that you weren't gay, you just worked in fashion."

I laughed out loud, thanked her, and pottered off. But it did get me thinking. First, I wondered how Ed really did feel about being asked that question; and second, what on earth had made her son think I might be gay in the first place? I'd only met Jack a couple of times and, as far as I could recall, hadn't been dressed as RuPaul and wasn't watching Sex and the City.

The Observer's Gay Dad.
Almost certainly the only weekly column in a British newspaper written under a pseudonym.
Dat's progress!