They talked extensively about how certain freedoms have to be fought for; the suffragist movements, worker’s rights, women’s rights, gay rights. “Women would have never got the vote if they’d only spent one day protesting. And if it wasn’t for the worker’s uprising, boys like you wouldn’t even have the right to an education… you’d be working twelve hour days, seven days a week with no holidays and low pay. If you want something, you have to fight for it.” she claimed, adding “Metaphorically, that is.”

“Yeah but… I’m not that bothered about wearing shorts.”

“It’s supposed to be a fight for the greater good, not a personal struggle.” his mother claimed. “I protested against the Poll Tax on behalf of those who couldn’t afford it… I marched against the invasion of Iraq for the people who live there… I’m neither gay, trans or disabled but support their rights…” she went on.

Toby listened with intent and raised a few contrary points of his own. But his mother, being a seasoned debater easily refuted them. “So… I’m wearing this tomorrow whether I like it or not?” he mournfully asked.

“You may as well. Giving up at this early stage is pointless… and it can’t be that bad. It’s just a skirt.” his mother reckoned.

Much against his better judgement, Toby attended school the following day wearing the skirt again. The numbers engaging with the protest had dwindled to around thirty boys in the entire school, but fortunately for Toby, he wasn’t the only one in his class. The other boy who’d been quite vocal about keeping up the protest until the uniform rules are changed has also returned wearing a skirt.

At break and lunch, the skirted boys gravitate to one another. Chants of ‘we want shorts’ are quickly quelled by the teachers who tell then that if they want to exercise their right to protest, they must do it quietly and orderly.

Concerned that the teachers were trying to stifle their democratic freedoms, the boys decided to try to recruit more to their cause. Toby isn’t keen because he’s not as keen on the cause as the others assume he is. If he’d had better debating skills he’d have never worn one in the first place, and given the choice, he’d rather wear long trousers than shorts anyway. But his lack of debating skills get the better of him and he ends up going with the majority and he even ends up helping to produce the campaign leaflets. He helps to write a rousing article for the school magazine, using some of his mother’s arguments and examples of why it’s important to stand up and be counted… the following week, numbers are up and by Wednesday, around fifty boys turn up wearing skirts.

“How was school today?” his mother asked. “Did you cope OK in the rain?”

“Yeah I guess.” he said. Truth be told, walking to school wearing a short skirt in the driving rain was probably better than wearing trousers. His legs dried out far quicker than a pair of trousers would have. The rain had cleared by lunchtime but the temperatures had dropped considerably after the recent heatwave. He casually mentioned that it was a little bit chilly and wondered how the girls cope when it’s really cold.

“They wear tights.” his mother replied.

“Not all of them.” he countered, listing a handful of girls who somehow manage to brave the entire winter in either knee or ankle socks.

“True.” his mother said. She claimed that girls are just tougher than boys in that respect. They’re used to bearing their legs and have simply become more acclimatised. She tells him that she’d buy him some tights if he wanted.

“No way!” he blurted. “They’d think I was a right ninny if I turned up wearing tights.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” his mother said. “So I bought you some knee socks instead.”

She passed him a paper bag and he delved inside. “Mum these are girls ones!” Toby moaned.

“And so are the ankle socks you’ve been wearing.”

“I know but… at least they don’t have patterns.”