The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1710 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Shall I be mother?” I said, stirring the pot of tea before pouring two cups, my guest was still blushing from the assumption of the owner of the restaurant that he was female. Ten years ago, I’d have been the same.

We added our own milk and he added sugar–yuck–then began to sip his tea. I love Earl Grey tea, but I only drink it now and then, so as to keep it for special occasions. It might sound silly, but then if every day was your birthday, it would no longer be special, would it? Not to mention you’d age rather rapidly.

“So, what’s this matter they think I can help with?” I asked once he’d stopped blushing. Naturally, he glowed bright red again as soon as I put my question.

I waited patiently, the salads arrived and once again Giuseppe addressed us as ladies–well I don’t have a problem with that form of address.

“It’s very–um–delicate,” boy this kid could blush for England.

“I don’t even know your name–how would you like me to address you?”

“What d’you mean?” the turbo on his sympathetic nervous system cut in and he went into tomato mode again.

“What would you like me to call you?”

“My name, you mean?”

“Yes, but if you have a preferred one, not necessarily the one on your birth certificate, I’m happy to use it.”

He went to speak then paused, then blurted out, “Sam.”

“Okay, Sam, how can I help you?” I started to eat my salad as I waited.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“How about why they sent you to me from the dean’s office?”

He took a huge breath and said rather hurriedly, “I enrolled as a boy and I want to change that to a girl.”

“Yeah, that’s okay–they’ll let you do that, on the understanding if you do, it’s after taking appropriate advice from someone who’s qualified to give it. They accept transgender students without any problem, but obviously they don’t want you flitting back and forth–it confuses them.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Have you seen someone yet–a doctor or psychologist?”

“Not since I was a kid.” He was barely more than that now.

“Do eat up, it’s not poisoned, you know.”

He blushed again but did eat some of his salad. “You know something about this, do you?”

“Tuna salad?”

“No, the gender changing thing.”

“What did they tell you at the dean’s office?”

“That you knew something about it–have you encountered it before?”

“Every day,” I said and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “I have a transsexual daughter.”

“Oh wow, you do then?” Sam paused, “I’ve never met another one.”

“They are about, I’ve had one on my course and I’ve met several others. You might have done so as well.”

“Yeah, they’re not all as ugly and clueless as me.”

“With a little help, I’m sure you could look stunning.”

“I doubt it.”

“Wait here a minute–oh if you need the loo, use the ladies, won’t you?” I walked out of earshot and called up Julie. “Hi, sweetheart, I’ve got a very femmy student who needs to talk to someone his/her own age, I’m sorry but to give me some cred, I said had a TS daughter, I hope that was okay?”

“I see, so you sacrifice me to save yourself?”

“Pretty well, yeah.”

“You get worse, Mummy.”

“I know, anyhow, if I invite her round, can we do a makeover, she’s got quite long hair.”

“If she ends up with my clothes, you can buy me some more.”

“Okay.”

“Great, I’ll bring my scissors home.”

“What would you like for dinner?”

“Pizza.”

“Alright, come straight home then, I’ll invite her for seven.”

“Okay, Mummy.”

When I returned, the table was empty and for a moment I considered that she could have run away. I might well have legged it at that age. Then Giuseppe told me she was in the ladies. I ordered a fresh pot of tea.

She came back looking rather flushed and red eyed. “Sorry, I felt a bit sick.”

I nodded. She abandoned her meal but agreed to have some ice cream–it is delicious. When she’d calmed down a bit, I offered my invite.

“I’ve asked my daughter to meet with you, if you’d like.”

“You bet, when?”

“Tonight, perhaps you’d like to come to dinner?”

“Crikey–I–um, dunno what to say?”

“Say yes, and I hope you like pizza.”

“Um–yes to both.”

“Do you have any clothes?”

“A few, I haven’t bothered much, my parents don’t understand–they think I’m gay, an’ it isn’t just about wearing frilly clothes.”

“I appreciate that, but at the same time, the clothes are useful because you’re making a statement–this is me, I’m a girl.”

“Yeah, I suppose–I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“I think some of daughter’s stuff should fit you, so you can have an experiment–she’s a hairdresser, so she’ll be able to advise you on hair and makeup and you can chat about things, too.”

“You’re so kind.” Sam paused as if looking for how to phrase something. “You don’t look old enough to have a daughter who’s a hairdresser–sorry to be so personal.”

“I adopted her, I found her semi-conscious on a pile of rubbish, she’d been assaulted. She came home with me and stayed.”

“Wow–you seem so nice to us–um, weirdos.”

“There is no such thing as weird, in regard to being yourself–well, unless you want to look like a tiger or some other animal. That is a bit strange by any stretch of the imagination.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

I glanced at my watch, “I have to get back, I have other kids to collect from school and some stuff to prepare for my classes tomorrow. I can give you a lift back to the university if you’d like.”

“D’you mind if I walk back–I’ve got a few things to think about?”

“Not at all–but I hope you’ll come this evening.” I gave her a note of my address and my mobile number. We discussed where it was and she thought she knew. I told her the bus number and she nodded. She walked off while I settled the bill.

I ordered pizzas for seven o’clock for everyone bar me–I don’t like them, so I arranged to have a couple of boiled eggs–I love ’em. Julie came home and dashed up to her room and changed into something which I thought was a bit over the top. I didn’t say anything, except that if she wanted to dress like a transvestite, she was doing a good job. It was unkind, but she shot upstairs and came down looking twice as nice and much more authentically female.

The pizzas arrived and just as I was beginning to wonder if Sam would come, the doorbell sounded again and I invited her in. Everyone had been briefed not to interfere and to let Julie get on with the makeover.

After eating, Julie took Sam upstairs and I left them to it, I had the debris to clear up and some survey work to do, as well as looking at my children’s dormouse essays. I also had to explain to Jacquie what was going on–she seemed to take it on board quite easily, which pleasantly surprised me.

“Given what I’ve been through, I try not to judge other people, Mummy.”

I gave her a hug and commended her on her charitableness.