"Dad, I've got something to tell you..."

I can't say I went on many bad dates during my single years. This is mainly because I didn't go on many dates on account of my looks and my personality. My personality you'll already have a handle on if you've read my previous posts. Sorry about that. As for my looks, imagine Chewbacca with a bad case of radiation poisoning and you'll have a good idea.

So while I didn't go on many bad dates, the ratio was still pretty high. None worse than when I was at university and finally managed to bag a date with the girl who - on three separate occasions - had caused me to walk blissfully into a lamp post. The point it went wrong was over dinner in an Italian restaurant in the Elephant and Castle when she said;

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure. Anything."

"How long have you known you were gay?"

This was not the worst bit. This was simply the preamble to the worst bit. The worst bit was;

"Why did you agree to go on a date with me if you thought I was gay?"

"We're on a date?"

Interestingly, this was not the first time someone thought I was gay. Around about the time I was eighteen, whilst I was slumped in front of the telly one afternoon, my Dad appeared in the doorway. Without ever getting eye contact we had the following conversation;

"Alright, Boy?"

"Meh." (I was, remember, eighteen)

"So... You're not gay are you?"

"Whu-? Er... No."

"Ok."

And he left. I never found out exactly what the cause of this conversation was, funnily enough it didn't come up on his death bed. I do wonder what would have happened if I'd said yes - although I suspect it would have elicited a similar response to if I'd said; "Dad, I'm a serial killer." Or; "Dad, I support Chelsea."

I remembered this the other day when a friend and I discussed how we would feel if our children turned out to be gay. The honest answer is that I wouldn't know unless it happened. In some ways it would be a relief. At least with the Boy. It would avoid the question "Dad, what do you know about girls?" to which the only true answer would be "Nothing." And since I don't have the ability to stop speaking at the right moment, I would probably follow this up with; "I'm still not sure what all the bits do." This, I fear, is likely to estrange my son from me. Ironically, today the Boy said;

"Boys can't marry boys, can they?"

And I found myself fumbling my way through an explanation of civil partnerships. Bafflement ensued and I was only saved when the Girl shouted something that sounded like "Arse soup!" at the top of her voice.

And would it be different if the Girl was gay? Probably not. Difficult to say. I doubt she will be, she doesn't like other girls. In fact, whenever she goes to gymnastics she starts shouting

"I don't LIKE that little girl!"

Which is embarrassing. Not as bad as when she does it to new born babies though as she did on holiday last year as people walked past us, pushing prams.

"I don't LIKE that baby! I don't like its face! GO AWAY BABY!"

The fact is, if either of my children turn out to be gay I'll be as supportive as I can be. However, if they decide to support Chelsea they can piss off.