gothamwingard: I didn't see it coming.

There are many things I expect as a dad, some things I expect as a gay dad, and a few things I expect as dad in a multiracial family. Questions, comments and discussions that have already happened or will happen down the road. “Where is their mother?”, “Where is your wife?” and “How long have you had them?” have all already happened. And of course there was the inevitable “When are they leaving?” question from Coco about the twins. Still to come are the more weighty questions like “Why do I have two dads?” which, in San Francisco, might be years in the future. But this past weekend I heard something I wasn’t expecting.

On Saturday night Ken and I were in an Uber on the way to a friend’s 50^th birthday party. For the record I am not yet 50, although it’s looming on the horizon. In the car, Ken was chatting with the Uber driver as he always does. After a few minutes of conversation between Ken and the driver I realized that I had had this driver before; he had driven Coco and me to her preschool one morning and then driven me on to work. As Ken and the driver are chatting and as I have this realization, the driver says, “Yeah, I’ve picked up a guy in your neighborhood before. An older guy. Maybe you know him. He takes his granddaughter to school. Or maybe it’s his daughter, I’m not sure.”

Yes, that’s right. I have now been officially mistaken as Cornelia’s grandfather. Although it’s true that I am old enough to be her grandfather since I am almost-but-not-quite 50, I like to think that I don’t look old enough to be her grandfather. Apparently, I do.

Ken thought it was hilarious. I was glad there was an open bar at the birthday party.