Here's how I know my daughter will be ok with having a gay dad.
The day after I came out to her, she and I were driving around town running some errands. At lunch time, we agreed to go to Islands, our favorite indestructible family restaurant. It's tropical-themed. It's all shellacked wood that you can spill anything on. They have great fries (which is really all I care about) surf videos playing on big screens, and a lot of fake tropical birds hanging off the rafters. Good times.
So we're heading over to the restaurant, and I'm starving for a good basket o' fries, and I said, "Man, I'm so excited. I love Islands."
A moment of silence from the backseat.
"What did you say?" she asked.
" I said I love Islands."
Another pause. And then:
"Is Islands a man or woman restaurant?" she asked.
"What?" I didn't get it.
"Is Islands a man or woman restaurant?"
"Do you mean the actual restaurant? Like is the place itself a man or a woman?"
"Welllllll, buildings don't really have a gender, as far as I know."
"It's probably a Man Restaurant," she said in an idle, musing tone.
She waited a perfectly timed beat. And then she said:
"Because you just said you loooooooooooooooooove it! You loooooooooove Islands! So it must be a Man Restaurant, right?"
And then she erupted in raucous laughter, cracking herself up with her funny, funny joke. The laughter slowed just long enough for her to make smoochy noises (an impression, presumably, of me and the restaurant, sittin' in a tree). Then, more laughing. The kid does find herself hilarious.
I laughed too. Partially because I totally share her 10-year-old comedic sensibility. But also out of relief. I get that the kid will be processing this for a while, but if we can make jokes about Daddy making out with a gay restaurant the day after the Big Talk, I'm thinking things will be just fine.