Shyly, I huddle myself as I enter the kitchen. “I thought you’d choose that top.” Mum said. Hannah agreed and said it suited me. “Didn’t you have a nightie with that print on too?” Mum asked.
“Yeah.” Hannah replied. “Did you want tea or coffee Pete?” she casually asked.
“Er… coffee please.” I meekly replied.
“Phew, that’s a relief.” she said as she passed me a mug of coffee. “Shall we go through?” she said, nodding towards the lounge.
I was kind of hoping to settle at the table where I could hide my legs, but no… in to the lounge we go. Mum glances as I sit. Her eyes flick up and down my legs. “They suit you those shorts do.”
“Er… thanks.” I reply, before stating that they’re very very short. “…for a boy any way.” I add.
“The was the standard length in the seventies and early eighties… for boys and men.” Mum claimed. “Although they didn’t wear tights… but they did wear knee socks.”
“Really?!” my sister and I simultaneously asked. “I can imagine ankle socks but knee socks?” Hannah said. Mum nodded. “With shorts that short?” Hannah quizzed.
“Pretty much.” Mum replied.
My sister was positively perplexed and maintained that tights look best. “…or leggings.”
“I think I’d rather wear tights than knee socks… with these anyway.”
“Over knee socks look nice… but you’d have to shave your legs.” my sister said.
After a very short and relatively discomforting silence, Mum said, “I’ve a feeling that you already do.”
Yikes! I was hoping to keep that one secret too. Apparently I’ve left my razor on the edge of the bath a couple of times, and the hair that I’d missed whilst rinsing it out clearly wasn’t from my chin. “Do you shave you pits too?” Hannah asked. Guiltily, I nodded. “Cool.” she shrugged.
“Even your dad trims his pits in the summer.” Mum said. “When its hot and sweaty.”
“Makes sense.” my sister said. “When did you shave your legs last?” she asked.
“Er… Christmas eve.” I reluctantly replied.
“Nice.” she smiled. Then she frowned and sighed.
“What?” I asked.
She sighed again before telling me how sorry she was. “It could have been such a nice gift if only I’d given it to you properly… but no… I had to get my own back like a spoilt brat.”
“I doesn’t matter.” I told her. “If you had… it wouldn’t be out in the open.” I said. “I think it’s better out than in.”
“Me too.” Mum replied.
“Yay!” my sister exclaimed. “Does that mean I’m not grounded?” she asked.
“You never were grounded.” Mum retorted. Her phone beeped. “Oh, that’s your father…” she said, reading a text message. “He wants to know if the coast is clear.”
Mum looked at me and my heart froze, but only for a moment. “Er… yeah I guess.” I replied. Mum tapped a reply. “What are you saying?” I asked.
“I’m telling him the coast is clear, and that you’ve got legs to die for, and if he ogles them, he’s sleeping in the spare room.” she replied.
“Oh Mu-um.” I groaned. I suspected she was teasing me… but with her sense of humour, it’s hard to tell.