My tattoo artist told me his teenage son came out to him as trans by giving him a bunch of blue cupcakes and a greeting card that said “it’s a boy!”
“That’s cute,” I said.
“It was NOT cute!” he snapped. “I thought he was pregnant.”
My tattoo artist told me his teenage son came out to him as trans by giving him a bunch of blue cupcakes and a greeting card that said “it’s a boy!”
“That’s cute,” I said.
“It was NOT cute!” he snapped. “I thought he was pregnant.”