“Don’t like the sound of this.” Sammy muttered. He walked away from the garage door and over to the patio. Maybe mom was almost done with lunch? He could not see her. Had she forgotten? Had she gotten distracted? She always seemed to be doing a million things at once. “Shoot, shoe’s untied.” He kneeled down, taking special care to try to keep his bottom covered as he did so, knowing Sarah would not miss a chance to tease him for exposing his underwear. “There.”
“How’d you get all the way over there?” Sarah asked, stepping out into the late morning sun. “I found my old jump rope!”
“Jump rope? That’s what you made me wait for?” Sammy whined. “I’m not good at that.”
“You haven’t tried in years! Bet you’re a lot better at it than you remember.”
“Bet I’m not.” Sammy mumbled.
“I’ll go first.” Sarah bounced a bit and then starting twirling the rope. “One, two, three, four, five!” She agilely stopped jumping and bowed. “There. I’m sure you can do more than five!” She held the jump rope out to him, but Sammy did not take it.
“I'm not doing it.”
“Why not?”
“Cuz”
“Cuz why.”
“It'll be fun. You just have to beat five. Do six jumps and you can be done.” Sammy considered it. Six was not all that many. But how could he, dressed as he was? “Come on.”
“In this?”
“Think of it as practice.”
“For what?” Sarah only smiled knowingly, which unnerved Sammy as it always did. “For what?” Sammy repeated.
“Well, it's not even noon yet and you'll be in that until bedtime, won't you, little Sammy?”
“Hope not.” Sammy mumbled. Sarah smirked, but ignored his muttered comment.
“So you’re going to do it? Just six jumps.” She helpfully held up six fingers. Sammy sighed.
“I guess.”
“Yay!” Sarah clapped her hands before handing the jump rope to Sammy. “Just take one of the handles in each hand and”
“I know how.” Sammy insisted. He took a deep breath, but then stopped. “How many tries do I get?”
“As many as you need, silly Sammy!”
“I’ll only need one.” Sammy said, hoping his confidence would make it true. Sarah took a couple steps back to give him plenty of space and waited for the show to begin. Even with the light breeze, Sammy’s skirt was unruly. She just wished he had cuter underwear on. The sharks looked so angry and ferocious, not at all cutesy like his undies should look. She silently scolded herself. She was getting ahead of herself. One day at a time, Sarah, one day at a time.
Sammy breathed in and out, trying to gather himself. He knew Sarah had something planned, but what? He had never had much success with trying to outthink her, but he still remained hopeful he would, one of these times. With the slightest shrug, he decided just to jump. Six jumps was nothing. He would just take it slow.
“One! Two!” He stumbled as he realized just how much his skirt bounced with his jumps. It almost felt like Sarah could see his belly button! Sarah giggled, but tried to keep her face impassive.
“Not quite six. Is something wrong?”
“No.” Sammy replied through gritted teeth. He shook his head and gave it a second try. This time, he made it up to four, but stumbled over of all things, an untied shoelace. He fell to his knees onto the patio. “Ouch.” Sarah swooped over and helped him up, tugging his skirt down over his shark undies.
“No wonder you tumbled!” She said, looking down at his shoes. “You tie your shoes too loosely, Sammy.” She said. “So, from now on, I want you to let me tie your shoes for you.”
“What? Why?” She knew that she would get her way regardless, but why not try to make him genuinely want it?
“Don't you like the idea of me tying your shoes for you? Like a servant?”
“Not the way you're talking about it!” Sammy exclaimed. “You're making me sound like… like I can't do it myself.”
“You literally just tripped over your shoelaces, Sammy. You can't do it yourself. But that's why it's so good that you have a big sister.” She tapped her cheek and Sammy kissed her cheek. “Sealed with a kiss. From now on, I'm tying your shoes for you, right?” Sammy sighed.
“Can I just have a chance to prove I can do it?" Sarah shrugged.
“If it's that important to you, sure.” She looked at his knee. “But we’re going to have to take a break from jumping rope. Look at your knee!”
“It’s barely bleeding.”
“You’re being such a brave little boy.” She praised. “C’mon, big sister’ll get a bandage on your booboo.” She grabbed his hand and pulled the baffled boy toward the house.
“Sarah, seriously. It’s not even bleeding anymore!” Sammy protested as she dragged him inside, but she was on a mission and not listening.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked.
“Oh, Sammy had a little oopsie, but I’m going to help him get cleaned up. Now that his tears have stopped!”
“I did not cry!” Sammy insisted, trying desperately to pull away from Sarah’s grip. “Let me go!”
“We’re almost to the bathroom, Sammy wammy.” Sarah said. “We’ll get your booboo all cleaned up!”
“Sarah, stop!”
“You’re going into shock, Sammy.” She teased as they entered the bathroom. “Sit down on the potty while I find you a nice, fun band-aid. That’ll make you feel all better, I bet!” Sarah snuck a peek at Sammy and smiled as he complied, brushing his skirt smooth like a natural. He was becoming such a good little boy, she thought. “Let’s see what we’ve got. That one’s boring… ugh! How long’s that one been in here?”
“What are you looking for?”
“Just a minute!” Sarah said in sing-song. Sammy rolled his eyes. Why was he even putting up with this? Grabbing a bit of toilet paper, he decided he would just wipe the blood away. Then Sarah would see that it was barely even a cut. “What are you doing?” Sarah asked the second the paper touched his knee.
“Cleaning myself up.” He braced himself for her to scold him.
“Aw, Sammy! You’re such a big boy!” Sarah praised effervescently. He stared at her. “But why don’t you let your big sister help, hmm?”
“Sarah. I don’t need your help.” Sammy tried his best to speak clearly and calmly so that there was no chance for misunderstanding. “Look, it’s already cleaned up.” His comments fell on deaf ears as Sarah wet a washcloth in the sink and, kneeling down, dabbed at his knee. “This is ridiculous.”
“Big sister will get you all cleaned up. You’re being so brave!”
“How?”
“By only whining a little.” Sarah winked at him. Sammy huffed.
“Was not.” Sarah shook her head.
“Look what I found!” She unwrapped a bandage and stuck it to Sammy’s knee. He looked down at it. Where had she found a Sesame Street Band-aid? “All better!”
“I guess.” Sammy mumbled.
“It’s just missing one thing.”
“What?”
“Dunno. Let me think.” Sarah tapped her cheek, making loud thinking noises. It took Sammy a moment to realize what she was doing.
“Fine.” He sighed and kissed her cheek.
“That’s a good little boy! Who am I?”
“Big sister.” Sammy mumbled.
“And you?”
“A little boy who needs his little sister.”
“Very funny. Maybe you’re too little to remember all that.” She smirked. “Maybe we should just shorten it to ‘little baby’.”
“No way!”
“Sure hope we go somewhere soon so you can use your new car seat again.” Sarah teased. Sammy glared at her.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Eager to go back to jumping rope?” Sarah suddenly grabbed his wrist. “Sammy! Your shoes are untied. Again!”
“Let me” Sarah cut him off.
“Nope. You’ve had your chance. I’m tying them. You’ve been walking around with them untied all day!”
“Have not!”
“Kids, stop fighting.”
“Mom, Sarah”
“Sammy, I’ve got a lot going on right now.” His mom said. “I don’t have time to referee every little spat you two have.” Sammy felt like everything would be solved if she would just listen, but he had no such luck. “Did you get Sammy's injury taken care of?”
“Yep! See his bandaid?” Sarah reached over and lifted Sammy's skirt, not that it was necessary for their mom to see his Sesame Street bandaid.
“Where on earth did you find that?”
“Back of the medicine cabinet. Bandaids don't expire, do they?”
“I don't think they do.” They went back and forth, just chatting away as Sammy stood there awkwardly, wondering if he could go find something to do or if he had to stand here and listen to their boring conversation. When he tried to slip away, Sarah grabbed his hand.
“Sarah” he whined.
“Sammy, don’t interrupt.” She said before resuming talking to their mom, holding Sammy’s hand to keep him there, giving it a gentle squeeze every now and again.
“I suppose” mom said after what felt like an eternity. “We should make Sammy some lunch already, hmm?”
“What are you making him?” Sarah asked, pulling Sammy after their mom into the kitchen.
“What do you think we should do, Sarah?”
“How about”
“Sammy, sweetie, don't interrupt.” Sarah said. Sammy looked pleadingly at his mom, but she was not looking. “How about you go sit at the table while mommy and I make you some yummy lunch?” Sammy stared at her as if she had grown a second head, but she simply smiled and nudged him toward the table. Sammy walked over to the table, but as soon as Sarah disappeared back into the kitchen, he made his escape, sneaking upstairs to his room, wincing as the stairs creaked. It was time to take the dress off, no matter what. Once he was back in his clothes, things would surely go back to normal, right?
Topic: Boys Don't Wear Dresses (Read 70699 times)
