My stepson is transgender. When Ian was born, he got stuck in the wrong body. Since I pretty much ignored science after fifth grade I’m not sure if this kinda thing is the fault of the stork, the universe, or some argument between a sundry of sperm and the single egg.
“Hey mom, we’re at the baggage claim waiting for you.”
Our mom hadn’t been to Vegas in 30 years and this weekend it was her birthday. My sister and I were flying in together and the plan was to meet up with mom in the baggage claim area.
“I’M ON MY WAY DOWN,” she yelled into her flip phone. Apparently her phone came with a sticker that said, “To operate, flip open and use your outdoor voice.”
“Mom what are you wearing?” I asked, trying to see if that might help me find her in the crowded baggage claim area.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT AM I WEARING?” she yelled.
When I was seven years old I woke up and found poop in my shoe. It was the kind of poop you see in the toilet when people don’t flush.
My sister and I were just a few weeks into our first “real school”. And being prepared for school meant no ballerina costume with pink ballet shoes as a school outfit. This was a “real school” with a dress code. Which was unlike the past two school our parents had us in.