Amanda Witt on Keeping Children Innocent When Lesbians Move In
Early one Saturday morning the doorbell rang. It was a young girl—taller than I am, heavily built, but still a young girl. “Last night we moved in across the street,” she said. “And I’ve heard you have a daughter my age. Can she come out to play?”
I called my eleven-year-old daughter, and she and one of our sons—the seven-year-old—went out to meet the new neighbor. They played with her all morning, building a fort and planning a club, and at lunchtime she asked if she could eat with us, “because we don’t have any food in the house yet.”
“Sure,” I said, and made . . .