Steak dinner

“Mom, can we go out for dinner tomorrow? I want steak.” Um, hell, yeah my little angel. I want steak too! “And Caesar salad with croutons. And fries.” Bless you, darling. It says in the Bible that parents love to give their children what they want (and we do), so I consider myself godly and agree to the plan.

Tomorrow comes around, I put on a comfy plaid-ish dress, twist my hair up, dab on some tawny miracle balm and layer my usual pendant with baby’s initial and the Etsy ghost charm that I put on a red piece of leather that I bought at the craft store. I’m cooler than I’ve ever been, but more on that later.

Walter gets cleaned up quickly after I pick him up from his after school program. His butterfly print pants and sequined jacket making him feel like a star. He puts on the glitter heels and grabs the seasonal magazine we picked up at Whole Foods the other day so we can get inspired.

He’s so animated. Just chatting away about a variety of topics. “Dad says we can only come here for special occasions now because it’s too expensive. I’m so mad about that stupid Halloween costume he wants me to wear!”

“I thought that’s what you wanted to be,” I placate. “Weren’t you looking at those costumes?”

“Yeah, but not the terrible ones with that white shirt and bow tie. I hate those shirts!” He bursts out. “Did you try to tell him that?” I ask. It’s sooo incredibly hard to know how to support your kid sometimes. Or even when you do know...it’s hard to see them hurting. “Yeah! He spanked me last time I tried...”

I was upset, but not surprised to find out was only two weeks ago when it was “I’m not going to get involved’s birthday” (She must have turned a million. Hehe. Sorry reader, I’m good, but not great.) He had looked so charming to me in the photos his dad sent and I marveled at how he had worn a button-up shirt...Not willingly, it turns out. We talk a little bit more...he starts down the path of character assassination and I briefly coach him there before we switch gears and walk into the restaurant.

I have a love-hate relationship with this place. I feel like I’ve outgrown it, but we eat a lot of foods we’ve probably technically outgrown and I settle in to enjoy my date. He orders confidently, shares his magazine favorites with me and excitedly cuts and shares the bread that I’ve offered him to practice his skills on. He did such a good job with the pumpkin-carving the other day.

It’s delightful. He wants me to be impressed that he’s eating lettuce now, and boy am I. Joaquin thought he said medium-well when he ordered his steak...thank god I caught that before the order went it. Don’t think that level of protein disfiguration would have worked for my princess. We thoroughly enjoy ourselves. My boyfriend texts me an early voting reminder and I ask Walter what he’d vote for. “All the pandas to be free” he says looking at me like he’s confused why I didn’t already know the answer.

Joaquin gets tied up, so we’re starting to get silly as bedtime approaches, but we finally arise from our booth “where we can have private conversations” which today amounted to a first grade gossip sesh, when the large group of gentlemen at the next table call out to Walter about how much they like his sequin jacket. My heart. The spokesperson comments how he wishes they made it in their size and that getting in the light with it so the sparkle could be seen  had the biggest effect. The rest nod their approval and smile tenderly at us and my heart fuckin’ melts. I gently tug Walter closer and he lets out a timid thank you...I smile at them with my whole self and say thank you as we walk out, but really I just want to hug and thank every one of them more than I did. It’s so weird, you know, because of course we are loved as we are and yet it meant so much to me that these strangers would go out of their way to show kindness and support to us. I really am getting choked up just telling you guys about it. I think about it a lot...how safe it is...what the balance of self-expression and safety might be for us. Whether he will understand that men/masculine like women/feminine has its own beautiful range of expressions.

It has happened like this before...that strangers have encouraged us. Maybe it’s surprising to me because I’m often on guard watching for danger. Maybe it’s better to watch for love, less exhauting.  I am so glad that love gets through to us...even when we are not looking for it.