So, George has found a new place - moving out in a week. Time to tell LeKid.  We were going to do it together just before bedtime when George got off work,  but I got the shakes.  At dinner I  took a Xanax, had a glass of wine and well - 

Me:  You know when two people don't get a long and they try and try to get along, but they just can't, so they have to take a break from each other?
LeKid:  Yeah.
Me:  Well, have you noticed that sometimes Daddy and I don't really get along these days?
LeKid:  Yeah.
Me:  Wo, we're going to take a break from each other.
LeKid:  What does that mean?
Me:  It means we're not going to live together any more because it's just really hard for us to get along.  So Daddy is going to get his own place.  And you'll see him a lot, just as much as you see him now, but he'll be living someplace else.

LeKid sat there and stared at me.  His eyes got a little wider then spurted tears. He didn't say a thing.  He put his head down on the table and they dripped down, making tiny little splashes on the floor.  All I could think of is how George and I are shitheads for doing this to him.  There have been so many strange bickerings that ended with LeKid yelling, "Guys!  Case Closed!"  Why can't we grow up?  What is our problem?  I want to blame it all on George, but a crappy version of myself must be in there somewhere and I better fucking find it and destroy it.  

Here's the deal.  Before George and I got together, I had heard that George had had a fling with a guy a long time ago.  It was common-ish knowledge among our friends - a one time thing that George was reluctant to discuss.  I didn't want him to feel weird about it even though it made me wonder about some stuff in the very back of my mind.  Like, could he really love me if he was in to guys?  Or was it like a Mick Jagger/David Bowie scenario  -  an Iggy Pop/Lou Reed sort of thing, except everyone was wearing a button down shirt?

So I went on a hike this morning with a friend.  The friend said there was a friend of a friend who got busy with George a long time ago.  Like way before George and I started dating.  That friend of a friend was a guy.   That friend of a friend was a different guy than the other guy George had a fling with that I already knew about.  Follow me?  

Later that night:

Me: George,  I have a question.
George:  Ok
Me:   How many homosexual dalliances have you had?  Because I heard it was two.  Not one.  
George:  yeah... that sounds about right
Me:  Before you told me it was only once and it was because you were confused -
George:  I was just trying stuff out - I was young and-
Me:  So do you think you might be gay?  Because maybe that’s why you have this baseline of anger – because you’re in the closet and it’s causing a lot of anxiety.  
George:  No, if I were gay, I would just be gay.  I don’t have any problems with being gay.  Why would you say that?
Me:  Well, I get it if you did it once and decided it wasn’t your bag, but at some point, you went back for more, didn’t you and-
George:  IT WAS THE 90’s!!
Me:  And you’re very in touch with your feminine side – more so than I am- you've got all your products, you stole that scarf you gave me for Christmas - 
George:  This is ridic-
Me:  And a   lot of people think that I look like a lesbian and you like it when I dress mannish. 
George:  That wouldn’t even make any sense – if I were gay, I wouldn’t want to go out with a lesbian!
Me: So maybe that’s why you have this anger and resentment towards me because I have lesbian style!
George:  I don't even know what we're talking about anymore!
George threw on the gayest scarf ever and marched out the door to a party.