For most kids the question of, “where did I come from” has a much simpler answer than it did for me. So, of course, when I was about four and a half and I asked my Dad, where I came from he had to think on his feet for the easiest way to explain things. He, once again, sent over the details of this conversation to my Uncle Herb.
“Dear Uncle Herb,
When Chelsea asked where she had come from, I told her a tummy. She said, ‘whose?’ I told her, ‘Donna’s.’ She asked, ‘did she give me away?’ I said, ‘oh no, Daddy and Dad wanted to have a baby and because we are both boys we couldn’t carry a baby so we needed help and Donna loved us and you so much that she agreed to carry you. So we took you, and put you in Donna’s tummy until you were ready to come out and then we were there to welcome you when you were born.’
‘Well,’ Chelsea replied, ‘that’s good because I always wanted a daddy and a dad anyway.'”
So, to all of those people that think I didn’t understand that my family was a little bit different, you’re wrong. Even as a little one I got that we didn’t exactly look like everyone else and I loved our uniqueness because in my eyes, who wouldn’t want a dad and a daddy. In case you’re still unsure, here’s a little ditty from a few years later…
When I was six my Daddy overheard a phone conversation that I had with a new friend I met at the park that day (since we couldn’t exactly text each other in 1999). It went something like this:
“Hi…oh that is my other dad….no, no I have two dads….no, I don’t have a mom….oh no, it’s great…if you had two dads you would be sooooo happy, it’s wonderful” and then we went on to talk about our Barbies and their hairstyles.
I always had to do a lot of explaining, but I was happy to do it because in my mind there was no family that fit me better than mine did.