AT DINNER MONDAY NIGHT, Ellis is a complete douche. “So it turns out the whole front line is like a dyke picnic,” she says. “I thought it was just Kelly and Kira, but now I hear it’s Michelle and Gabby, too.” Mom says, “Ellis, that’s ridiculous.” “I know, right? Jesus! It’s, like, spreading.” Mom says. “You’ve been hanging around these small brains for too long.” “Yeah,” I say. Dad just eats. I can’t believe no one else can smell the pot wafting from his core. At this point, I think we could scrape off his epidermis and smoke it for a buzz. Ellis laughs. “How about lesbian luncheon? Is that better?” “No,” Mom says. “Uh, gay garden part—” “Stop it,” Mom says. “Don’t be so small-minded.” “Yeah,”