Eleanor is thirteen fourteen and a freshman. I share those two facts as background for this conversation, which took place yesterday while my son and I were waiting for Eleanor to be done with her after school improv club activities.
Kelson: You have a Wiki.
Me: I do. It’s a little over the top. All positive.
Kelson: But that’s good for you, isn’t it?
Me: Sure. Why?
Kelson: My friends say that if you’re the Queen of Lesbian Literature then I’m the Prince of Lesbian Literature.
Kelson (after I stop laughing loudly): Yeah. So thanks.
Me: It could be worse.
Kelson: Not really.
Me: They could think you were the heir to the throne of the kingdom of idiots.
Me: That would be worse. And at least no one will think that if you’re the Prince of Lesbian Literature that you must be a lesbian.
(Eleanor enters car, immediately begins eating Chipotle burrito because life has its priorities.)
Kelson: It’s still not worse.
Eleanor: What are we talking about?
Me: If I’m the Queen of Lesbian Literature, that makes Kelson the Prince of Lesbian Literature.
Eleanor: Then I’m the Princess of Lesbian Literature.
Kelson: But who wants to the heir to the Kingdom of Lesbian Literature?
Eleanor: You wouldn’t be. The Queendom of Lesbian Literature passes through the matrilinear line.
I had no more to add. Neither did Kelson. Eleanor continued to enjoy her burrito.