“Oh don’t put it there Mother.” I moaned when she put it in a frame and placed it alongside my Cub Scout picture. “…everyone can see it!”
“So?” she shrugged as she repositioned the frame ever so slightly. “Hopefully we’ll have one of you as May Queen to go alongside it.” she grinned.
“God I hope hot.” I grumbled.
“Now now Vincent… Brownies don’t blaspheme.” she said, smiling and jovially wagging her finger. “Do you want to help me make supper?” she asked.
“I guess.” I replied. It’s not rare for Mother to get us helping with supper on occasion, and just like when she wants a photograph, she won’t accept no for an answer. “Do I have to wear that?” I grimaced when she passed me Judy’s apron.
Mother nodded and said she wanted to see how well I can fasten its strings. “Not bad for a boy.” she said as she faffed with the bow. I spent half an hour ‘helping’ Mother make supper, although I did little more than pass her things and watch. I braced myself when my Father and sister returned home, fully expecting them to comment on my frilly apron, but they didn’t mention it. It was a relief when I finally removed it because it really did look like a white summery skirt. They did mention the new photograph though and it soon transpired that I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s great.
On Sunday we went for a family day out to Dinkdale Crag. It’s a beauty spot we visit regularly so Judy and I run ahead whilst Mother and Father saunter slowly behind. Judy and I were larking about, scrambling over rocks and climbing trees when she exclaimed “Are you wearing knickers?” I instantly became coy and evasive. “You are aren’t you?” she said. “They better not be mine!”
“Get off!” I yelped as she grabbed at my top. “They’re mine… Mother bought me them for Brownies.” I confessed. The only reason I’m wearing them today is because I didn’t have any clean underpants in my drawer, and the likely reason for my sister spotting them is because unlike my undies, all my knickers have a really high waist trimmed with elastic lace.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to tease.” Judy claimed. “I was just surprised, that’s all.” she added, before saying that it’s ‘quite sweet’ that I wear knickers too. I said I’d rather not talk about it. Judy apologised again.
As usual, we clambered all the way to the top of the crag where we’d enjoy the view of the valley whilst waiting for Mother and Father to take the slow route to the top. It’s towards the end of March and the weather is changeable. We set off with fleece tops on but by the time we’d reached the top of the crag we were both building up a sweat. Judy removed her fleece top to reveal a vest. She advised me to follow suit. “Nah.” I replied in spite of feeling too warm for comfort. “Because I’ve only got a vest on and I don’t like not having a top on.” was my reason. Judy said I could just wear the vest. “It’s a girl’s vest.” I grumbled.
“Oh… I see.” she replied. “Well, just take your top off for a minute or two ’til you cool down… no one will see.”
“You will.”
“I’ve already seen your knickers Vincent.” she reminded me.
Shyly I removed my fleece to reveal a white vest with lacy trim and a little bow stitched in the centre of the chest. After a minute or two of enjoying the breeze on my shoulders, Judy asked if I felt better. “A bit.” I replied, glancing around nervously. “I’m just worried that people might think I’m a girl.”
Judy glanced around. “Well, there’s no one here so you’ve nothing to worry about.” she said. “Anyway, wouldn’t you rather people think you’re a girl than a boy with a girl’s vest on?”
“I dunno.” I grumbled. “I guess.” I said. “Not that that’ll ever happen coz I’ve got short hair.” I suggested. Then something dawned on me. “I hope we wear wigs at the May Queen parade. We’re going to look stupid if we’re dressed like girls with short boy’s hair!”
“Plenty of girls have short hair.” Judy replied. “It’s called a pixie cut.” she told me. “Anyway I don’t think you’ll look stupid… you look cute in your Brownie uniform so you’ll look even better in a proper dress.”
“I only look cute in one photo. I look stupid in all the others.”
“Only because you were pulling faces.” Judy claimed. “You can look cute when you want to.”
“But I don’t want to look cute.” I stated. “I don’t want to go to Brownies or be the May Queen but everyone says I have to.”
“That’s because everyone will be so proud of you if are the May Queen… of course its a bit weird having boys in the parade but there’s a first time for everything.” my sister said. “You could be the world’s very first May Queen who’s not a girl… you could be on Record Breakers! Imagine that?!”
“It’d be horrible.” I claimed. “Everyone’s taking the mickey out of me as it is.”
“Not everyone.” Judy retorted. “You said the girls at Brownies were OK.”
“Yeah but it’s the boys at school mostly.” I replied before describing some of the taunts both I and Antonyhave received.
“Enjoying the sun?” our mother’s voice called. We turned to see our parents approach. “We thought you’d lost your brother and found a new friend for minute Judy.” Father said as he grinned at me. “Don’t put your top back on on our account.” he said as I began to do just that. He cast his eyes to the skies. “It is warm today.” he stated.
“Its windy too.” I added as my head popped out of my fleece top. Judy agreed and put her top back on. Mother and Father savoured the view for a short while before we headed back down to Dinkdale itself. Father and I ended up walking a few paces behind Mother and Judy and he cautiously asked me if I was looking forward to going to Brownies this week. “Sort of… not really… it’s just like Cubs really but…” was my stuttered reply.
“It’s full of girls?” Father suggested.
“Yeah… they’re OK I guess… it’d be better if I didn’t have dress like them.”
“Well… when in Rome.” Father said. “Plus, you get the chance to prove that boys are just as good as girls… I think you’ll be a better May Queen than that chubby girl last year.” he added in a slightly mischievous tone. “…but don’t tell your mother I said that.”
The poor girl, I thought. She wasn’t that chubby but her dress was too small. The photograph in the paper wasn’t very flattering. “It’d be better if they just changed it to the May King, then I wouldn’t have to do any of this girlie stuff.” I said after a moment’s thought.
“True.” Father replied. “But it’s OK when Judy does ‘boy’ things like climbing trees or clambering up the crag or playing Scalextric… surely it should be just as OK when a boy does ‘girl’ things” he said. “Like Billy Elliot doing ballet.” he added.
“I suppose.” I grumbled. As we walked the woodland trail, I thought about my sister who, for a girl, does do loads of ‘boy’ things. She’s been proper rock climbing and abseiling too. She even does stunts on her BMX. She also goes to a tap dancing class, gets giddy over dresses and spends way too much time in front of the mirror. She’s part tom-boy, part girlie-girl… or maybe she’s just a normal girl? I don’t know. What I do know is that since I was nominated as a potential May Queen and was subsequently transferred from Cubs to Brownies, I don’t feel like a normal boy any more.
