When I returned to school after new year, everyone wanted to know what everyone else had got for Christmas. I couldn’t help but visualise my navy blue nautical dress, my numerous pairs of girl’s socks and knickers, my Fairy Town train set and my huge pack of nappies as I muttered my well rehearsed reply. “Not much, clothes and stuff for my model railway layout.” Most seemed to think my enthusiasm for model railways was geeky and boring so no one pressed me for any finer details.
In the afternoon we had geography and the geography teacher is also the year tutor; a kind of headmistress, but overseeing just one of the five year groups. After geography is the afternoon break, but Mrs Webb asked me to stay behind after the others have gone. As the last one leaves, I defensively tell her that I haven’t done anything. “I never said you had Timothy.” she replied, before asking me if I’d have a nice Christmas. “It was OK.” I meekly mumbled. Little does she know that I’m wearing two of my gifts.
“I’m glad to hear it.” she smiled. “Are you wearing knickers or a nappy today?”
I gulped and glared at her. My blood rushed into my head. I hoped I’d misheard her but I knew I hadn’t. How does she know? I thought.
“Well?” she asked. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t reply. “Let me guess.” she said, before musing for a few seconds. “I think you’re wearing knickers today.” she told me. I hung my head. “Would you like to know how I knew?” she asked. I didn’t reply but I did raise my eyes. “Well… if you were wearing a nappy… your mother would have notified me.”
I grimaced and gulped. She asked me if I’d been reading the Pettiquette booklet. “Yes Miss.” I sheepishly replied.
“Then you’ll understand that this is all for your benefit.” she said. “I know it’s not nice having to wear nappies again at your age but, providing you’re polite to your teachers and pay attention in class and don’t let any of the other children talk you into doing anything silly or reckless, then you’ll only have to wear them at bedtime…” she explained. “…which isn’t so bad is it?”
“It’s horrible.” I mumbled.
“Maybe so… but it’s better than wearing one for school.” she replied.
“Yes Miss.” I muttered as my nightly routine flashed through my mind. No sooner I’m out of the bath, I have to smear a thick layer of nappy rash cream all over my bits and bum before pulling on one of my nappies. They’re supposed to be ‘unisex’ but they all look girlie to me; decorated with butterflies, princesses, unicorns, fairies, teddy bears, bows and hearts. Mum claims that only the princesses, fairies and heart designs are for girls… but how many boys would willingly wear anything with a butterfly, unicorn or teddy bear printed on it?
“Have you any questions?” Miss Webb asked.
Initially I shook my head. Then, after another moment I asked “When did she tell you?”
“Your mother?” she said. I nodded. “We chatted about it last term. She told me she was in a good mind to buy you a doll and a dress and nothing else for Christmas, and I naturally assumed that she’d decided to petticoat you. I gave her some pamphlets and we chatted and… here we are.” she explained. “If you keep your head down, study hard and stay out of trouble for the rest of the school year, then I’m sure that next Christmas will be a lot more enjoyable.”
“Yes Miss.” I gulped. It can’t be any worse than this one, I thought.
“I certainly hope so.” she said, smiling through pursed lips. “Now I want you to know that you’re not the only petticoated boy in the school.” she stated. “There are others so you’re not alone.”
“Who?” I enquired.
“You don’t need to know their names, just like they don’t need to know yours.” she replied. “I just wanted you to know that you’re not the only one.” she added.
Maybe she felt that that nugget of information would make me feel better? It didn’t. She sent me off to the school yard where a couple of pals approached and asked what I’d done. “Nowt.” I replied. “She was just telling me not to get into trouble this year.” I told them.
They snorted and sniggered, telling me I’ll be in detention before the week ends. God I hope not. They’re easy enough to get even if you don’t do anything wrong but the consequences for me are far greater than being kept behind for fifteen minutes. One began boasting about his 48K ZX Spectrum whilst I worried about the prospect of having to wear a nappy instead of knickers beneath my uniform. The other showed off his calculator watch with twenty different alarm tones whilst I imagined a class of twenty kids all pointing and laughing at me. He went onto brag about how awesome his model Audi Quattro rally car will look when he’s finished building it. I’m thinking of my Fairy Town train set and Florence, that hateful doll. I have to dress her in the morning and undress her before bed. She sits on my lap whilst I watch TV and lays beside me whilst I sleep.
When asked about my Christmas gifts, I listed jeans, socks, gloves, pyjamas, a jumper and ‘stuff’ for my electric train set. I know I’m not supposed to tell fibs but Mum said it’s OK to tell a little ‘white’ lie when people ask what Santa brought me this year, providing I don’t go too far and tell people that I got something expensive like a Commodore 64, a BMX or an Intercity 125 train set. “Surely you got something cool?” they asked, suggesting a book, a game or a music cassette. I shook my head. “Boring!” they exclaimed.
Thankfully only four people know the truth; my mum, Kathy, Mrs Webb and me, but even Kathy doesn’t know the half of it. She thinks I only got a doll, a dress and a girl’s train set when really… all I got for Christmas was petticoated.
