Where did you get them?

Max Mutchnik writes in the Huffington Post:

... So this is what really happened.

I stood shoeless in front of the metal detector. Rose was in my arms. Her mouth open just a tiny bit and her eyes as wide as they've ever been in her hundred and thirty five days of life. Behind me was my husband. He held Evan. (Evan is also girl. See first paragraph).

"Step through."

The TSA guard said it like he was talking to a prisoner. I did as I was told. My husband followed. He held a baby in one arm and four business class tickets in the other. The guard looked at the tickets, then looked at us, then looked at the tickets.

"Who's Rose?"

She is. I'm Max, this is Erik and that's Evan. Rose's sister.

"Evan's a girl?"

Yeah. All the kids with kids are doing it.

What?

Nothing.

A moment of silence. Rage started to well up inside of me in anticipation of the next question this giant with a badge was going to ask me. How was this man going to insult my family? In what way would he make me explain my difference?

This is what he said:

"Where did you get them?"

What?

"Where did you get your kids?"

Don't get me wrong. It's a hideously offensive question, but implicit in what he was saying was the fact that we were the dads and they were our daughters. Progress! Progress from a moron. But progress nonetheless. I was feeling some love for the TSA Giant.

I made them...

read the rest of this excellent article here.