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last summer
in an airport
near a yogurt shop
while sitting with my son
a women across from us
white, middle-aged
could not take her eyes off of us
sad for my strawberry frozen yogurt-deprived son
confounded by our relationship
she chose her words carefully
“Perhaps this nice man
you’re with will buy you frozen yogurt.”
to which I replied
“God bless your soul, he’s my son.”