Mum left me alone for a second whilst I fiddled and faffed with the funny little clips.
“How you getting on?” she asked when she returned.
My dress is in one hand.
My shoes in the other.
She seemed impressed that I’d clipped all four straps on myself, but it wasn’t exactly hard.
I wanted to put the dress on but Mum wanted to check that my suspender straps were adjusted properly which meant removing my gown.
. Mum also adjusted my bra straps to ensure they wouldn’t fall down.
“Yes, of course… sorry.” she said when I corrected her and said ‘cropped vest’.
“Can I put the dress on now?” I asked.
“All in good time.” mum grinned.
“There’s a blouse first.”
“A blouse?!”
“I mean shirt.” mum replied as she removed it from the big boutique bag and unfolded it.
I gulped.
“Actually, it could do with an iron…
you’re OK for a few more minutes aren’t you?”
“Yeah I’m fine… just getting used to my new underwear.” I sarcastically replied.
Mum grinned. “I must say I was expecting you to be huffing and puffing a bit more.”
“Well it’s just a dress… and Sally’s never had a proper girl’s birthday before so…” I replied. “The hard bits going to be when my mates at school find out about it.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Mum said. “They might tease you for a bit but then they’ll find something else.” she claimed. “Sally gets teased for being girlie and she is a girl… just take a leaf out of her book and shrug it off.”
“That’s the plan.” I said as Mum erected the ironing board.
“It’s as a good a plan as any.” she said as I donned the silky gown she’d loaned me. “Chilly?”
“No… just a bit shy.” I replied as I covered my frilly little undies.
Mum began ironing the shirt.
I put my pink heeled shoes on and as I sat,
I was taken by surprise when my suspender straps quickly slid around my hips,
as if finding the shortest route between the belt and my stockings.
“Is that normal?” I wondered as I fastened the buckles.
They were really fiddly on Tuesday.
Now they’re easy to fasten.
I can’t say I like the shoes but they do go with the rest of my outfit.
I’ve worn them for a few hours over the last four evenings and they’ve always looked alien and felt awkward, although less so as I persevered with them.
But seeing them now, with their white lacy background, they look like they finally belong.
I wait patiently yet nervously for a few more minutes whilst mum irons the awkward garment.
She’s struggling with the little puffy sleeves.
At fourteen, I’ve not had to do any ironing, but I can see why it’s tricky.
“Oh, that’ll do.” Mum declared before passing me the unbuttoned garment.
“Thanks,” I said through a pursed smile.
“Are you excited Peter, or are you apprehensive?” mum asked.
She read my mind perfectly.
“A bit of both.” I confessed as I slid out of the gown and slipped my arms through the sleeves of the blouse shirt.
“Is this a boy’s blouse?” I asked.
“Its buttons fasten the same way as my shirts,” I added.
Even in this day and age, the buttons on women’s & girls’ garments tend to fasten the opposite way.
“Well you didn’t think I’d buy you a load of girl’s clothes for your birthday did you?” she smiled.
She held that smile whilst I buttoned my blouse.
Once done, she turned her head and said.
“Are You ready?”