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(aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2107 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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“You got your ears pierced?” I tried not to gasp.
“Yeah, loads of kids get it done–I don’t have to wear anything too girly, do I?”
“I suppose not.” The fact that I’d had to wait until I was twenty two annoyed me, but then, I’d had to wait because my parents wouldn’t have liked or tolerated me getting it done any earlier. Was I turning into my mother? If I was it was fractionally better than turning into my father, an unashamed humbug.
“Cindy’s mum will drop me back before dinner, is that alright?”
“I suppose so, though I’d have preferred you’d told me you were going out in the first place.”
“I’m thirteen, Mum.”
“I don’t care how old you are so–young lady, I make the rules, you abide by them.”
“Yeah, yeah, see you later, Mum.”
In some ways I had to be grateful that he was as compliant as he was, lots of other thirteen year olds are out of control–my whole body shuddered at how Trish might be when she gets to his age–difficult didn’t begin to describe it. Then again, perhaps I’m overreacting but if he comes home and says he’s got a tattoo or a tongue piercing, I’ll murder him on the spot.
As I walked back to the kitchen I recalled that Peter or Pia or whatever, had his done and one of those little ones in a nostril. I wondered what was glinting on his nose at the makeover session before I got a clear view and saw it was one of those silly nose piercings–must be lovely when you have a cold.
As you can tell, I’m not a great fan of piercings and I despise tattoos–they were fine for nineteenth century seadogs but not twenty first century girls–ugh. I know Julie would have one in a moment if I said it was okay, so I’m grateful that she doesn’t out of respect to me. That I’m prepared to help fund her business is out of love for her. The big problem is that youngsters–hark at me, I sound like an old biddy–can’t see consequences. The old one of a sailor having to get his tat re-inked because he changed his girlfriend or she changed him, is both archetypal and relevant. So many of these celebrity non-entities seem to have relationships which only last as long as they provide opportunity to social climb: I know it’s always happened but it seems even more blatant than ever before. But then we’ve never had so many attention-seeking, talentless nobodies as we have today. I suppose it could be a consequence of the internet or social web sites or whatever, but some of them seem to earn huge sums of money for being themselves–a bit like I do–but at least I recognise it’s probably only because I married the boss’s son and I do know a thing or two about dormice but if I told you, I’d have to kill you.
“D’you know the NSA is monitoring all our phone calls, texts and emails,” declared Stella as she dissected her pasty.
“Goodness, they’d be very confused reading mine,” I suggested, smirking.
“You have something to hide?” asked Jacquie somewhat incredulously.
“What’s it matter if I did, what right have they got to read my private email or phone calls?” Stella was mounting her hobbyhorse.
“Stella, calm down, every government in this whole foetid world is paranoid, corrupt and self serving. They sell fear to try and justify their paranoia and that justifies the draconian measures they inflict on us. You can’t win because you need honest politicians and that’s an oxymoron. There is no such thing as a free country, a, because you pay for everything one way or another and, b, we are duped into believing that we have freedom to do as we wish until we cross some invisible threshold and then it all disappears along with the person who transgressed.”
“The price of freedom is eternal vigilance,” offered Jacquie.
“Oh God, you sound like a spokesperson for the Whitehouse.”
“Well that was said by a president, you know,” she replied indignantly.
“Jacquie, I think it’s been attributed to everyone of them since Thomas Jefferson and to Thomas Paine before that as well as Uncle Tom Cobbley an’ all.” I suggested because like so many of these clichés, although we know someone said it the first time round, that attribution has been lost in the mists of time.
“You’re mocking me,” she complained.
“No I’m not, I’m simply pointing out that it’s been attributed to many over hundreds of years. No one knows who said it, like, ‘Lies, damned lies and statistics,” I tried to appease her.
“Oh well, I’m just stupid anyway, just a girl so not worth educating.”
“Just a minute, young woman; I offered you a chance to study and you threw it up. So don’t come the old soldier with me.”
“You undermined me.”
“No I didn’t, I saw how you were completely in that woman’s thrall and set out to expose her.”
“I’m not talking about this,” she rose from the table and left the kitchen.
“Well done, Cathy,” said Stella clapping slowly.
“Whatever I do seems to be wrong at the moment.”
“No, you’ve done a lot of good over the years, so don’t do yourself down girl,” Stella tried to talk me up a little.
“That era seems ended and I now screw things and people up.”
“Who or what have you screwed up?”
“My son.”
“Oh, I wondered when that would come up.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, you’re obviously discomforted by the way he seems to be taking to girlhood.”
“Obvious is it?”
“I’m afraid so, but let’s face it, he’s surrounded by us so why should he fight it any longer when he could join it and enjoy the same treats as everyone else?”
“Are you implying I spoil the girls more than him?”
“I’m not implying anything because it’s what he thinks that matters.”
“But no boy is going to embrace girldom because he thinks he’s missing something, are they?” Now I was really confused.
“You have a better theory?” asked Stella.
“I assumed he was doing it to help Peter or Pia or whatever he calls himself, and to get brownie points with Cindy.”
“But Cindy is still intacto, isn’t she?”
“If you mean pre op, yes, she’s only thirteen far too young for surgery.”
“So he’s not after her for sex?”
“I have no idea what the attraction is. I assume it isn’t sex but who knows, it seems something inside him has changed since the business in France. We know it did with Peter because he mutilated himself.”
“You wonder if Danny’s going the same way?”
“I don’t know nor do I think he does either, but it seems the girls are egging him on all the time and I really don’t know where it’s going to end, except in tears.”
“He could be enjoying it.”
“Oh I know he’s enjoying it but without seeing the consequences.”
“He’s only a kid, Cathy.”
“I know, but he could still do something that could cause him long term bother. The boys in school call him names now because they think he’s like Peter, if they ever get wind of this cross dressing lark, he’ll never live it down.”
“Cathy, all you can do is be there for him and hope he finds some sort of resolution in it all.”
“That’s pretty well what I’ve thought but at times I feel like telling him I want my son back.”
“Oh, I’d have thought you’d have been more supportive of his experiment than that.”
“No, I’m genuinely frightened that I could lose my son.”
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Comments
If he is a transvestite...
It wouldn't stop him being Cathy's son and she wouldn't necessarily have 'lost' him. He could still enter a meaningful, stable productive, long-term relationship with a girl and give Cathy grandchildren.
Still lovin' it Ang, you're seemingly exploring the angst that many parent's go through when the encounter any sort of sexual divergence in their children.
Still lovin it.
Bevs.
I am genuinely confused.
I think there should be some cause for interest in the fact that Danny is now messing about with Transgender issues. Statistically, the incidence of the T issue is very small, and I am thankful for that. This is a hard knock life and I would not wish it on my worst enemy. Cathy has good cause for concern.
It is my hope to one day walk into the men's section and see skirts and sheer blouses. Showing up for work to pour concrete just won't work while wearing a pencil skirt and Jimmy Choos, but if a male secretary wants to do that in an office to impress his female boss...
She will probably be wearing cowboy boots, black levis and a tight T shirt with no bra. How will they get any work done at all?
Poor Danny. I imagine that he will be pulling a 60 foot trailer up beside the mansion to handle the staff examining heads there.
Poor Cathy.
G
Maybe you could
lose your son Cathy , But if that is what Danny/Danni really wants then you will at least have a happy child, And surely in the great scheme of things that is what really matters .. Yes there could be problems with the Social Services but lets not forget Cathy is married to one of the richest men in England, And how often do you see the really rich lose out when they come in contact with the law...
Stella is right though, All Cathy can do is be there for her child, Support is everything, Whatever the outcome might be...
Kirri
It's Ironic That Cathy Finds Herself...
in the same place, some parents of transgendered kids so often do. They express the same fear of losing the child they know and love. Cathy can now say she is seeing things from her own parent's perspective. It's also ironic that she is coming down on the side of the nurture argument with regards to Danny/Danielle and wondering if the family's own actions made Danny want to crossdress. Cathy seems not to remember that and the other trans members of the house expressed their true natures at a very young age and how they were raised, didn't seem to factor into it.