“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Andrew says. William nods before entering the office and the door closes behind him.
“Come on… let’s get you home.” Andrew’s father says.
“Can I get changed?” Andrew enthusiastically asked as he stepped inside his home.
“You’ve got your homework to do first.” his mother said.
“Not really.” Andrew retorted. Although he’d been given several homework assignments today, there’s no point doing them since he won’t be handing it on Monday, he figured.
His parents tell him that it’s still a school day and rules are rules. Andrew tuts and sighs as he sits himself at the table. “Here.” his mother says, grabbing a hairbrush. “Let me redo your bunches.”
“Oh mu-um.” he whined. “I don’t have to do my dance practice too do I?”
“You know you do Andrew.” his mother replied, reiterating that it’s still a school day and school rules apply. “…and talking of dance classes… you didn’t mention that you’d been invited to join the Saturday dance class.” she added.
“Because I don’t want to join the Saturday class.” Andrew replied. “I just want everything to go back to normal… my own clothes, my own room, blah blah blah.”
“Well your father and I want to talk to you about that.” his mother replied. She made him wait until he’d completed his homework before she and his father had a talk with him. “…you can’t deny that this last two weeks has done you the world of good.” his mother said.
“I doubt you’ll be skipping class when you go back to Cromwell Road.” his dad added.
“I won’t.” Andrew replied. His parents believed him. “Can I move back into my room tonight?” he asked.
“Well…” his father began by explaining how he’s been no trouble at home since he was suspended from school. “You’ve been doing your homework without moaning about it. You’ve been helping your mother with the washing up. You’ve been tidying up after yourself, going to bed on time…”
His mother eventually took over. “We’re concerned that if everything goes back to normal, then you’ll go back to normal.” she told him. “So we’ve decided that it’s best if you continue being petticoated at home…” she stated as Andrew’s jaw dropped. “…and you will be attending the Saturday dance class at St Felicity’s.”
“Oh mu-um… that’s not fair.” Andrew whined, before saying that he wanted to visit William tomorrow.
“You can visit him after your dance class.” his mother said. “And you never know, William might also be there.”
“I doubt it.” Andrew muttered. “Can’t I at least have some of my own clothes?” he asked.
“You’re better behaved when you’re wearing your sister’s clothes.” his father replied.
“Your dad’s right Andrew… but if you’re good, and I mean exceptionally good …we might let you wear some of your own clothes when you’re playing out with your friends.” his mother said.
Poor Andrew felt incredibly glum when he sauntered up to his bedroom. He can’t believe that he has to continue wearing his sister’s hand-me-downs for the foreseeable future. Feeling hard done by, Andrew grumbles and mumbles to himself as he changes out of his uniform and dons his dance kit. He pulls the chair out from his dressing table, laid the worksheet on its seat and opened his bedroom door before working his way through the various positions and routines, using the back of his chair to steady himself when needed. After ten minutes, he sensed a presence and turned to see his mother watching from the landing. “You do look ever so graceful.” she says as he practises his ‘rond de jambe’. “Oh don’t stop on my account.”
Andrew says he feels silly with her watching and can feel himself blushing as he moves onto the next step; the développé. “Do you have to watch?” he whined.
“No but I like to.” his mother replied. “Plus I need to make sure you’re actually practising and not just prancing about.” she added, that being the reason he has to practice with the door wide open.
He’d been so looking forward to waking up in his own bedroom on Saturday morning and spending the day wearing his own clothes.. but he didn’t. He woke in his sister’s room, wearing a frilly nylon nightie and resigned himself to the fact that this is the new normal. He don’s his sister’s old dressing gown and goes for breakfast. On the kitchen table is a number of pamphlets that the head teacher had given his parents; Petticoating at Home, Petticoating for Schoolboys, St Felicity’s Holiday Club and on top, Saturday Dance at St Felicity’s. “Do I really have to go to that dance class today?” he frowned.
“Well…” his mother began. “…having flicked through the pamphlet, it turns out you’ll need a new leotard and tights.” she said. “So we’ll leave it ’til next week.” she added. This came as a huge relief to Andrew, but since he already has a leotard and tights, he quizzed why. “Because beginners wear a white leotard and tights and yours are burgundy and pink.” she replied. “So we’ll go shopping for those this morning, then you can visit William and you can enrol next week.”
“Come on… let’s get you home.” Andrew’s father says.
“Can I get changed?” Andrew enthusiastically asked as he stepped inside his home.
“You’ve got your homework to do first.” his mother said.
“Not really.” Andrew retorted. Although he’d been given several homework assignments today, there’s no point doing them since he won’t be handing it on Monday, he figured.
His parents tell him that it’s still a school day and rules are rules. Andrew tuts and sighs as he sits himself at the table. “Here.” his mother says, grabbing a hairbrush. “Let me redo your bunches.”
“Oh mu-um.” he whined. “I don’t have to do my dance practice too do I?”
“You know you do Andrew.” his mother replied, reiterating that it’s still a school day and school rules apply. “…and talking of dance classes… you didn’t mention that you’d been invited to join the Saturday dance class.” she added.
“Because I don’t want to join the Saturday class.” Andrew replied. “I just want everything to go back to normal… my own clothes, my own room, blah blah blah.”
“Well your father and I want to talk to you about that.” his mother replied. She made him wait until he’d completed his homework before she and his father had a talk with him. “…you can’t deny that this last two weeks has done you the world of good.” his mother said.
“I doubt you’ll be skipping class when you go back to Cromwell Road.” his dad added.
“I won’t.” Andrew replied. His parents believed him. “Can I move back into my room tonight?” he asked.
“Well…” his father began by explaining how he’s been no trouble at home since he was suspended from school. “You’ve been doing your homework without moaning about it. You’ve been helping your mother with the washing up. You’ve been tidying up after yourself, going to bed on time…”
His mother eventually took over. “We’re concerned that if everything goes back to normal, then you’ll go back to normal.” she told him. “So we’ve decided that it’s best if you continue being petticoated at home…” she stated as Andrew’s jaw dropped. “…and you will be attending the Saturday dance class at St Felicity’s.”
“Oh mu-um… that’s not fair.” Andrew whined, before saying that he wanted to visit William tomorrow.
“You can visit him after your dance class.” his mother said. “And you never know, William might also be there.”
“I doubt it.” Andrew muttered. “Can’t I at least have some of my own clothes?” he asked.
“You’re better behaved when you’re wearing your sister’s clothes.” his father replied.
“Your dad’s right Andrew… but if you’re good, and I mean exceptionally good …we might let you wear some of your own clothes when you’re playing out with your friends.” his mother said.
Poor Andrew felt incredibly glum when he sauntered up to his bedroom. He can’t believe that he has to continue wearing his sister’s hand-me-downs for the foreseeable future. Feeling hard done by, Andrew grumbles and mumbles to himself as he changes out of his uniform and dons his dance kit. He pulls the chair out from his dressing table, laid the worksheet on its seat and opened his bedroom door before working his way through the various positions and routines, using the back of his chair to steady himself when needed. After ten minutes, he sensed a presence and turned to see his mother watching from the landing. “You do look ever so graceful.” she says as he practises his ‘rond de jambe’. “Oh don’t stop on my account.”
Andrew says he feels silly with her watching and can feel himself blushing as he moves onto the next step; the développé. “Do you have to watch?” he whined.
“No but I like to.” his mother replied. “Plus I need to make sure you’re actually practising and not just prancing about.” she added, that being the reason he has to practice with the door wide open.
He’d been so looking forward to waking up in his own bedroom on Saturday morning and spending the day wearing his own clothes.. but he didn’t. He woke in his sister’s room, wearing a frilly nylon nightie and resigned himself to the fact that this is the new normal. He don’s his sister’s old dressing gown and goes for breakfast. On the kitchen table is a number of pamphlets that the head teacher had given his parents; Petticoating at Home, Petticoating for Schoolboys, St Felicity’s Holiday Club and on top, Saturday Dance at St Felicity’s. “Do I really have to go to that dance class today?” he frowned.
“Well…” his mother began. “…having flicked through the pamphlet, it turns out you’ll need a new leotard and tights.” she said. “So we’ll leave it ’til next week.” she added. This came as a huge relief to Andrew, but since he already has a leotard and tights, he quizzed why. “Because beginners wear a white leotard and tights and yours are burgundy and pink.” she replied. “So we’ll go shopping for those this morning, then you can visit William and you can enrol next week.”