Vincent had his bath first, then I had mine. Instead of putting my pyjamas on afterwards, I went back down stairs wearing my bathrobe and nothing else. Mother pulled the remaining gifts from beneath the tree and passed them to each of us. My gut feeling was right and this ‘one last surprise’ was something girlie… very girlie! Vincent unwrapped a Cinderella sleepwear set and I unwrapped a Princess Aurora one. Vincent’s is mostly blue in colour but mine is exclusively pink, consisting of a long sleeved nightie, a short sleeved nightie, a vest and some ‘sleep’ shorts. Only the shorts didn’t have a picture of Princess Aurora on and when I expressed a little disapproval, Mother apologised and said, “I’d have bought you the Rapunzel one if I’d known she was your favourite.”
I looked over at Vincent’s sleepwear set and felt a little bit envious. Given the choice, if I have to wear a nightie I’d rather wear a blue one… even if it does have Cinderella on it! But I wasn’t given the choice and I spent the rest of Christmas day wearing a pink long sleeved nightie bearing an image of Princess Aurora in a love heart on the front, along with a pair of pink girlie slippers over a pair of fluffy pink bed socks.
Vincent asked me if he could sleep in my room since Gregory’s bed was vacant. I told him that it’s OK with me so long as it’s OK with Mother, and she said “Yes”. When Vincent and I finally went to bed, Mother had put Vincent’s duvet on Gregory’s bed. Thankfully my duvet cover was left unchanged, unlike me. I was a little unsettling chatting to my brother as he lay under a frilly pink duvet with a silhouette of ballerina on it, complete with an actual lace tutu. What is more unsettling is the nightie I hide beneath my duvet. It’s a frilly pink monstrosity that rivals Vincent’s prissiest dresses and it’s puffy pink sleeves are constantly in the corner of my eye. I consider removing it and stuffing it somewhere out of sight, but Vincent said, “Mother might check… and I don’t mind… I always dress like a girl.”
He had a point. I swallowed my pride and encouraged myself to be less self conscious about my nightie. I propped my elbow on my pillow and pulled my duvet down a little, revealing the white love heart that contains the image of ‘my’ Princess Aurora. Vincent told me that Aurora’s way cooler than Cinderella, the princess emblazoned on the front of his new nightie. I suppose he’s probably right but I’ll just have to take his word for it. We stayed up talking for a while and I had a little moan about getting ‘loads of girl stuff’ for Christmas. Vincent pointed out that I’d got hardly any girlie stuff compared to him, and again he was absolutely right. “How many new dresses did you get?” I asked.
“Four.” he replied. “Plus five skirts.”
“How many have you got altogether?” I asked.
Vincent shrugged. “I dunno… too many to count… about twenty I guess… not including skirts.”
“It must be boring dressing like a girl all the time.” I said.
“It’s anything but boring.” Vincent replied. “But that doesn’t mean I enjoy it… I mean, it’s OK being a girl, it’s just weird with everyone knowing I’m not really a girl.” he explained before adding, “Real girls don’t have to wear dresses all the time.”
“You wear your dungarees sometimes.” I reminded him.
“Yeah but proper girls wear jeans and hoodies all the time, they don’t always wear skirts and dresses and stuff like me.” he sulked. “Anyway, she’s only let me wear my dungarees twice since bonfire night.” he added.
My mood dropped as I cast my mind back to the worst night of my life when I wet myself in front of some kids from my school. I still get called ‘pissy knickers’ on the odd occasion at school, and I reckon they’d call me even worse names if they knew what I’d been given for Christmas. I drifted of to sleep feeling sorry for myself, but couldn’t help but thumb the frilly trim of my new nightie.