I meant to add something else on the bottom of that last post which is that I also trust my children. I trust them to come to their own conclusions and I trust them to have the humanity to make those conclusions good ones.
Mainly, I was thinking about this point because of this I read in the Guardian on Saturday in the ‘Gay Dad’ column:
‘On the way home [my son] chats animatedly about the afternoon while digging out the contents of his party bag. He mentions, en passant, that one of their friends turned up to the party wearing a tunic dress. Apparently he often turns up wearing one.
‘Why, I ask. “He just likes them,” Ed replies. Do the other boys tease him? I ask. “Nah, he’s a really good guy… Yay! I got a Transformer!” Ed can’t believe I’m asking so many questions about a subject he obviously considers relatively humdrum.
‘I ponder how much has changed between my generation and his. The other fathers and I don’t quite know what to say to each other because they work in finance and I work in fashion, while our eight-year-old sons will happily run around playing games together barely batting an eyelid that one of their number is wearing a dress.’
Because sometimes, children’s conclusions aren’t just good, they’re way better than what adults come up with.