Did you ever…

“My friend “L” wants to be a boy Mum,” Master six was telling me as I prepared dinner.

“Well I know she likes to wear shorts and t shirts but did she actually say that?” I calmly asked him, knowing the quiet classmate he was referring to as she had been in his pre prep years as well.

“Sometimes she wears the boys uniform to school… but sometimes she wears the girls one instead.  She says she doesn’t like it though,”  I could see his mind ticking over as he thought aloud.

“She’s a tomboy!” his nine year old sister interjected, followed closely by  “Weren’t YOU a tomboy mum?”

My thoughts raced, it was indeed true that I preferred jeans, flannelette shirts and t shirts to skirts and dresses.  I loved riding dirt bikes around the back paddock. Campfires under the stars and horse riding if the mood took me. I had a red and silver 12 speed racing bicycle and I avoided pink at all costs.

Mum (perhaps attempting to salvage some femininity when I turned 15) enrolled me in Deportment Classes in Year 10.  I tried… really I did.  I failed. Oops.

My younger sister was the girly type.  She excelled at embroidery (thanks Mum), cooking, typing and all those feminine skills that I struggled to even contemplate WHY we needed to do them in the first place!  She even wore (GASP, SHOCK, HORROR!) dresses and skirts if they were in her wardrobe!  Her lilac pushbike had a U frame to make it easier to ride in a skirt.

She passed Deportment classes and went on to do her Debut.  *sigh*

My logic wondered why I couldn’t just have the equivalent $$ cost of  “the” dress towards a new motorbike.  It made much more sense to me… after all, I’d use it more than once!  Well I would.

“I guess I was,” was my short response to my offspring.

“Oh?  So did you want to be a boy too Mum?” the six year old was peering at me carefully.

“I don’t ever remember wishing I was a boy.  I like being a girl,”  it was the truth.

“Darn it, you’d be a great friend if you were a boy instead Mum,”


~ by C J on November 11, 2011.

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