As they descended the stairs, Toby told himself that he’d avoid his reflection in the hallway mirror but his mother had other ideas. She drew him to a halt at the foot of the stairs and he had no option but to face himself. “It looks quite nice.” his mother claimed.

“My legs look stupid.” he said. His grey socks stand halfway up his calves and the pale fuzzy hairs make his legs appear out of focus.

“They’d look better with different socks on.” his mother said.

“They look stupid because they’re hairy.” he replied.

“They’re not that bad.” his mother insisted before setting him down at the kitchen table to do his homework. She instructed him how to sit without scrunching the pleats and to always smooth them over his lap. She’d infrequently say “knees” as she pottered around him and he’d instantly snap them together. She suggested putting him in a pair of frilly knickers to encourage him to keep them together. She suggested wearing a pair of shorts beneath it. “None of your shorts are short enough.” she informed him. “…and I was only joking about the knickers… just try to remember to keep your knees together.” she advised.

Toby sat and did his homework whilst his mother did the ironing. Their supper simmered on the hob. He began to shut his books and put his stationary away. “Have you finished?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he replied. “Can I get changed now?” he asked.

“I think you should keep it on until bath time.” his mother replied. Of course he whined at this suggestion, but his mother told him that he’ll be wearing it all day at school tomorrow so a few more hours tonight won’t do any harm. He wore it whilst eating and wore it whilst washing the dishes. He wore it whilst watching TV and got used to wearing the unusual garment… but he still felt it looked stupid. His mother said that didn’t matter… in fact it’s the core of the protest, she claimed. Toby reiterated that it’s not so much the skirt, but his legs.

The following morning he sits at the breakfast table, nervously shovelling his his bowl of cereal into his mouth. “I’m going to feel like such a ninny today.” he moans.

“No you won’t.” his mother claims. “Plenty of other boys will be wearing skirts… and if you believe in having the right to wear shorts in future, you’ve got to make a stand now.”

He knows she’s right but would rather others make the stand and he didn’t. Having tried the skirt for size the previous evening, Toby knew it looked stupid with his hairy legs and boy’s grey ankle socks. His mother addressed that by giving him a tube of Veet and a pair of ‘nice’ socks. “I look like a girl.” Toby moaned as he looked down at his hairless legs and scallop topped ankle socks.

“No you don’t… you look like a boy in a skirt.” his mother replied. “At least now your legs look nice rather than stupid.” she said. He’s as nervous as hell as he grabs his school bag before being shown to the door. His mother tells him how proud she is before he steps out alone. Ironically, the five day heatwave is drawing to a close and the air is distinctly cooler than previous days. The breeze is up and he fears it might catch his skirt and reveal his underpants. He keeps his hands ready to grab it should that happen, but not having any pockets, he doesn’t really know what else to do with them. The first group of school boys he sees are all wearing trousers and he begins to worry that he might be the only one… but as he nears the main road and even more groups of school kids, he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees other boys have joined in the protest and are attending wearing the girl’s uniform. He sniggers. They mostly look ridiculous, especially the older boys with stubbly chins and really hairy legs.

The girls laugh and coo. There’s a handful of journalists and photographers at the school gates chatting to a group of maybe ten or fifteen skirted boys. He and many others avoid the cameras, but they can’t avoid the attention from the girls. All in all, he figures there’s maybe fifty or sixty boys taking part on the protest so he’s certainly not alone. But so far as he can tell, all of the others are wearing their skirts considerably longer than he is, and the girl’s waste no time in pointing out that unlike the others, he’s had the good sense to shave his legs and wear some ‘nice’ socks. Glumly, he tells them that he didn’t shave his legs but used some cream that his Mum had given him. “I didn’t really want to… not just for one day but my mum insisted.” he reluctantly informed the crowd that had gathered around him and a handful of other skirted boys.

“It’s not just for one day.” one of the other boys claimed. “It’s ’til the end of term, or until they change the uniform rules, whichever is sooner.”

Some of the others said they were only going to do it the once, to make a point. Tomorrow, they’ll be back in long pants, or shorts if they’re allowed. Having removed the hair from his legs, it was presumed that he was in for a long protest, possibly lasting until the end of term, a whole five weeks away. The boys involved weren’t punished for taking part in the protest. In fact their endeavour was praised by many teachers, but suggested that they don’t wear skirts again tomorrow because they’ve made their point.