Looking For a Few Good Dads

Last night, as I was turning out the light in Ry’s room and slipping out the door, she asked, “Mama, did I ever have a father?”

I paused, went back in, and pulled back the edge of her sheet-fort so I could see her.  “No, Honey.  You’ve never had a father.  You’ve always had two moms.”

“But did you ever have a boyfriend?”

“Lots, when I was a kid.  My last one was when I was 16.”

“Was he my father?”

“No. That was a long time ago.”

“Did you get divorced?”

“No, we were never married.  We broke up, because we moved to different places, and just didn’t need to be together any more.”

She ponders this for a moment.  I’m preparing to answer egg and sperm questions, or to field I wish I had a father, but instead she says, “I really want two dads.”

“What? Really?”

“You and Mommy should find two men to be my dads.  I’ll call them … Daddy and … Daddy and …”

“How about Papa and Dad?”

“Yeah.  And you and Mommy can marry them, and we can all live together, and then I can have two moms and two dads. Can we do that?

“Well, maybe not the marrying part, but I bet there are plenty of men out there who’d love to be your dad.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll need to get out there and get to know some more men.”


“Goodnight, Ry.”

“Goodnight, Mama.”


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