Parenting as a gay man has been interesting, to say the least. In addition to experiencing many of the typical things that a first-time father experiences, I often find myself in situations other dads might not. In 2012, I was in a Starbucks when a well-intentioned grandmotherly type approached me and asked what so many others have asked me over the previous two years when they saw me alone with Nate: “Is it Mommy’s day off today? Are you babysitting?” Unfortunately for her, she chose the wrong guy and the wrong day to inquire and I told her what I’d been itching to tell the dozens of people who had asked me similar questions before. “I’m gay,” I responded. “How do you know that my child’s other parent is a woman, or that there even is a mommy?” The woman turned whiter than the foam on her latte.