A few weeks ago I got a call from the guidance counselor at my daughter's school.

When I realized who it was, I sat down and took a deep breath.

The school counselor doesn't just call parents to pass the time of day.

She told me that she had just had a long meeting with my daughter and the

school principal. And they were meeting because a little girl in another class at school, we'll call

her Lena, a kid I've never even heard of, had dropped a bomb on my daughter at recess.

I know your secret.

I know your secret.

Did you immediately assume it was about the transgender thing? Well, what else would she be talking about?

I don't know.

My daughter is stealth.

That means she's not out as transgender at school. Only a handful of her classmates know because that's

how she wants it. She's scared of being bullied or teased or just seen as different. But she has confided in a few trusted

pals. She carefully selected them and then told them one by one, extracting from each a promise of loyal silence. Incredibly, this has worked,

and none of her friends have broken their word until now.

And that whole thing I was like,

he's just the one about my cousin eating his brother's poop.

My daughter's response was to tell one of her teachers that she needed to meet with the principal right away.

Is it the one about him kissing a girl by the tort castle?

And yes, I am kind of in awe of her for demanding a meeting with the principal.

Or is it the one that you know what?

All on her own.

...