Sorry Charlie!

Sorry Charlie --

"Charles, Charles, Charles." I shook my head and hugged him. "You don't have to be a football star or the top athlete like your brother or I was back in the day. I love you for who you are and always will."

"Thanks Dad. I just thought you would be happy to hear I tried out for the team."

"Yeah, but look at your broken arm." I started to laugh. He did too. "God, I love you Charles. You never cease to amaze me. You are one of the smartest kids I know. But, you are so dumb when it comes to sports. So why did you do it? Me, your brother, the cheerleaders, girls, fame, fortune?" I turned his head up to look at me and looked him in the eye. "The thrill of being a public masochist on a Friday night?" He broke out in giggles.

"No Dad. I just thought you wanted me to try."

"No. Never in a million years. Nature hasn't given you a body that can play football. Nor has it given you muscles, height, or a thick enough skull." He grinned. "You know, like your brother and I have." I knocked on my head a few times to make my point. "So why on earth do you think I want you to be a macho, macho man doing everything your brother can."

"Well, you and Roger always seem to talk sports and you encourage him to do better and help him too. I kind of feel left out."

"Now you are lying. You know I support you too. I have gone to your science fairs, book fairs, attended your music recitals, attended your plays, gone with you to the music store to get you better instruments, got you tons of math tutoring when you were struggling, and a whole bunch of other stuff. We spend a great deal of time together too doing the things you like to do. Never once have I pushed you into a gym or demanded you be Joe Montana or Wayne Gretzky. You need to tell me the real reason why." I had him cornered. Just at that moment, Roger came around the corner.

"Dad. I heard the guys at school have been teasing him pretty hard about being a girl the last few weeks. They think he should be more like me. I told them to shut up and leave him alone."

"Thanks Roger." I looked back at Charles and asked, "Is this true?" He blushed.

"So it is true?" He nodded.

"All right then, tell me what is so wrong about being a girl?"

"Nothing dad. Nothing at all."

"Then why would you take it personally? You have to know those guys were macho idiots."

"Because ..." he began to cry, "... Because I am a girl!" With that he ran upstairs and slammed his door shut. Or is that her door shut.

Martha, my wife, overhearing this, said, "I think I should go up and talk to him."

I held my hand up to stop her. "No, honey, I got it out of her at long last what has been bothering her so much lately. Let me please." She smiled that smile that got me hooked in the first place and then let me go upstairs.

I knocked on her door. There was silence. I knocked again. "Can we talk, please?" No answer.

I said through the door, "Look, young lady, I have to make a confession here before we do talk. I have always loved the names Charlie and Charlotte. They have such a lovely ring to them. Charlie or Charlotte. Which do you like better?"

A moment later, her door slowly opened.

Copyright © 2021 by AuP reviner



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