Girlie Men

It’s late, I’m exhausted and even though I had a million thoughts today, I can’t think of a single thing to write about. I could write about how it was 7:11 this morning and it seemed too early to get started with the day. I forced my eyes shut and awoke again at 9:22 – much more reasonable. I made in-the-bed phone calls. I was comfortable and I had simple questions. People were suspicious of my sultry voice and asked what I was doing. My reply was nothing because I was doing nothing.

It might be better if I wrote about my phone conversation with my son where he again accused me of trying to make him gay – this has become a habitual statement - it just kills me. It cracks me up. It’s effing hilarious. I told him of a recent conversation with a 25-year-old Verizon manager with divine blue eyes who confided in me that as a child, and the youngest son, his sisters would decorate him in dresses. He didn’t really seem that distressed but now I wonder if he too is harboring secret anger and goddamn it, very soon his family is going to pay. (Strangers tell me things, and I’m not sure yet why they feel the necessity of sharing – it’s … kind of weird but I kind of like it.)

I reminded my son that I never put him in dresses and he said, “You dressed me as a girl.”

“Not true,” I replied.

“You did. You put me in Demi’s pink outfit!”

I reminded him that was an emergency situation involving a lack-of-toilet issue and a lack of backup clothing – he was six. For 16 years he has believed that because he had a human accident and had to wear a Tweety Bird, pink and white checkered outfit, with a darling little hood on it, for an hour tops, (I drove home immediately) that I tried to make him gay. Jesus. Where’s Bill Nye?

Quickly, I asked if the phone was clicking on his end because my end was. He said he heard clicking too, and I told him to hang up immediately because the government was listening in. He laughed, paused, and said, “Seriously?”

I laughed and said, “No! Gay!” (I didn’t, but I wanted to in the worst possible way.)

The only thing I can establish about this day is that if in the future, I, or someone cruel and trippy like myself, solicit you to wear something pink and Disney related – I REPEAT - IF IT IS GENDER SPECIFIC CLOTHING, DO NOT PUT IT ON UNLESS YOU WANT TO CHANGE YOUR SEXUAL PREFERENCES. I have religious and scientific evidence that you will be traumatized and possibly permanently skewed. (Sorry about the pink clothes buddy; nobody knows, it’s our secret – shhh.)