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"What do you tell the kids?!" I spew with mock anger. Then I repeat it slowly, for dramatic effect:
"What ... do ... you ... tell ... the ... kids?!"
My troubles foster sympathy.
"Our children are exposed to things that we were never exposed to. We were being bad kids if we drove out of a drive-in movie theater with the speaker still connected to the car," Debbie cackles.
"We're seeing the gay warning signs! We're seeing the warning signs," I say, hitting the back of a chair. "He doesn't like sports."
"He just ends up playing with the Barbies," adds an almost tearful Isabella Gaymore.
"And he gets picked on by other kids," I state.
"They call him sissy-boy," adds Isabella.
"Yeah, sissy-boy or just plain sissy. They call him ...," I declare and then list other examples; the members of the group nod with each new entry. "... homo, felcher, fister, tea-bagger, truck driver on the Hershey highway ...."
I elaborate on the evil outside forces descending on our fake son.
"Like, there's that show Will & Grace. We caught him watching that," I spout. "We can only watch him a good 12 hours a day and can't watch him 24 hours day. If there was something we could do ahead of time ... something to prevent it!"
"We're especially, really worried since we're living in San Francisco now," my fake wife says, explaining that the Gaymores just moved one month ago from a small town in Minnesota, located, ironically, not far from the large crying woman's hometown.
"So you're in gay culture shock!" Carol clarifies.
"I even saw two men holding hands," Isabella states with horror. "And our son sees that!"
"What do you tell the kids?!" I remark with a sad, disturbed expression.
"How do you explain that?" the crying woman agrees and then continues to cry. "I'm sitting here thinking we are both originally from the same place. God brought us both here for a purpose. I wish I would have seen the signs you've seen."
Carol, who has no counseling degrees of any type, decides it's time to begin discussing the proper ways of dealing with the warning signs of gayness, such as a fascination with long hair, earrings, or scarves.
"In child development there are positive steps you can take," says Debbie, who also is not certified as a counselor. "There are positive ways to make him feel that playing with Barbie dolls is not acceptable."
"What about when he tries on my dresses and makeup?" asks my fake wife. "Should I tell my little Tabby-Wabby that it's not cute?"
"Seems he's bringing that home from those outside influences," Debbie retorts. "There are ways to tell them, 'It's not acceptable to wear Mom's clothes and Mom's makeup, but come in here I'll show you how to put on aftershave!' Their little spirits are just so susceptible."
"What about if it's being taught in our schools? Should we change schools?" I cry, slamming down my fist.
"I was just about to say, 'Oh, get him into a private Christian school, if there's any way possible,'" Carol counsels.
"It's funny, they even have a school especially for gay people in New York City," my fake wife notes with faux disgust, throwing fuel on the fire. "Can you believe it? It's specifically for gay teens. It's a public high school."
"The kids! The kids!" I say. "What do you tell them?!"
"God has given them protection. And sometimes when I say pray about it, I don't mean to sound as stupid as that sounds," Debbie says, trying not to sound stupid. "I believe you can pray about it, but God gave me the ability to take action. I always say, 'He feeds the birds, but he doesn't always bring the food to the nest.' We got a big responsibility in that."
"He feeds the birds, but he doesn't always bring the food to the nest," I repeat.
Carol, who has no medical qualifications whatsoever, explains the science behind homosexuality.
"People are not born gay. The so-called gay gene has not been proven," she says. "People call them sissy-boy or queer or fag, and they begin to believe that."
"Not to mention tea-bagger," I add, vigorously nodding my head, as my "wife" decides it's time to throw a curveball at the group's biblical "logic."
"What happens when you are born both a man and a woman? A hermaphrodite?" she asks. "What then? It seems no matter what they do, they're a sinner."
"Yeah, that's a tough thing. Like I said, it's a rarity," Carol explains.
"There's deformities of all kinds; some are more visible than others," perky Debbie pipes in. "When my kids ask me about that, I say, 'You can't believe everything you read.'"
"It's actually a medical condition," my fake wife clarifies. "Are you a sinner then because you were born that way and are both a man and a woman?"
"That is the way God created you. And the day will come when you will lean towards one or the other," Carol explains. "They do surgery. It's very common."
"So if you get surgery, and you become a woman, then you're not a sinner if you like men because surgery made you a woman?"
"As they grow, they will naturally go to what sex they want to go to," Carol says with assurance.
"What do you tell the kids?!" I blurt, shaking my head.
"Then if they are both man and woman, and they know what sex they want to go to, then they are not a sinner, no matter what sex they want to choose?" my "wife" asks.
"No. I wouldn't think so," Carol answers matter-of-factly.