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"Isn't it, you know... weird?"
Simba looked round to Nala with a frown, pausing in unlacing his soccer boots. "What do you mean?"
"Having two Dads."
She was trying to be nonchalant (his new favourite word of the week, out of a crossword) but wouldn't look at him properly. Simba looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and switched feet. "Nah. Why should it be? I mean, you might as well say it's weird having a Mom and a Dad, or just a Mom, or--"
"Yeah, but, like," she turned to him eagerly now, "who does the cooking, or cleans, or whatever? And who does the gardening and gets things off high shelves?"
"My Dad Pumbaa cooks," replied Simba with a scrunch of his nose. "Most of the time anyway. He's better than Timon. But they both clean. The garden's kinda wild anyway. And Pumbaa's taller, so he gets things off shelves.
"Hmm," Nala replied, slipping on her normal shoes and doing up the buckles. "So do you think it's, like, better than having a Mom and a Dad?"
"I dunno. I've only ever had them." He finally pulled off his socks and stretched out his feet in front of him, wriggling his toes. "It's pretty cool, though. We can all watch football together and they don't mind it when I fart."
"Eww, Simba!"
They both started giggling as he stuffed the last of his sports kit into his bag. "And I get double the chance of winning the fathers' race at sports day."
Nala seemed to think about this for a moment, then nodded. "My Mom's always yelling at my Dad for leaving the toilet seat up."
He looked surprised. "Women have it down?"
"Well, duh," she said.
"Well, duh, I didn't know," he replied. "Anyway, why did you ask?"
She shrugged and slung her rucksack over one shoulder as he got to his feet. "I dunno. My Mom was saying some stuff at the weekend."
"Like what?"
"I dunno," she pulled a face. "Those weird things grown-ups say. Like two men shouldn't adopt a son or something."
"What," said Simba, "so boys should only have Moms?"
"No, I don't think so. Like, people should have a Mom and a Dad."
He snorted. "What about Tarzan? He only lives with his Mom. Or Lilo, and Nani. Or Tiana and her Mom, or Ariel and her Dad, or--"
"Yeah, I didn't get it either," replied Nala with a shrug, before he could start counting on his fingers. "I think she was just being weird again."
"Yeah," sighed Simba, hefting his bag further onto his shoulder as they sat on the wall outside their school. "Adults can be weird somethings. I don't get it."
"When we're adults, we won't be weird like that," said Nala triumphantly. "We won't care if boys like boys or girls, or if girls like boys or girls, or even if they like both."
"Or if they don't like any," added Simba. "I don't think I want to kiss anyone."
In response, Nala made a kissy-face at him, and he gave a "Guh!" of mock-fear and tried to hold her at arm's length as she threatened to kiss him. Finally they gave up and collapsed into rounds of giggles, until Simba almost fell backwards into the hedge and Nala had to help pull him out.
They sat for a while longer, watching the clouds and seeing the other kids get picked up after practice, then looked round at the call of, "Simba!"
"Dad!" Simba shouted. He jumped down from the wall and ran over to Timon, almost turning the running hug into a tackle. Timon pulled an exaggerated face as he picked Simba up, then let him slide to the ground again.
"Geez, you're getting too big for me! Pumbaa, take over."
Pumbaa, laughing, swooped Simba up and hung him upside down. With a slightly softer smile, Timon watched them for a moment, then shooked his head.
"Watch out, or you'll shake his brains out. Oh, hello Nala. Nice to see you."
Nala shifted slightly where she sat, but smiled. "Hello, Mr. Poa."
"Please, Timon," replied Timon, pulling a face as if hearing his surname put him off. Nala giggled. "Seriously, Pumbaa, put him down. Say, have you got a lift home for this evening?"
There was something slightly hasty about Nala's nod, Simba thought, but then again it was a little difficult to tell from upside down. He gave a yelp of laughter as he was turned the right way up again and then plonked down. "My Mom's gonna pick me up," she said. "She's just running a bit late, I think."
"Do you want someone to wait with you?" suggested Pumbaa. "I can stay here while Timon and Simba head home."
"No, I'm good, thank you," she replied. "She shouldn't be too long, anyway."
There was a moment pause, then Timon nodded, his smile becoming a little gentler in that way which Simba had come to recognise but still didn't quite understand. "All right, then. Well, have a good weekend, and say hi to your Mom and Dad for me."
"Will do," she replied with a smile, and then Simba grabbed Pumbaa's hand and gave a big wave as they started back down the street to where it was easier to park.
"How does lasagna for dinner sound?" suggested Timon, as they rounded the corner and the sun came out from behind the clouds to paint the whole road in bright colours.
Simba grinned. "Perfect."
And it was.