Pink isn't feminine

|B|a|b|y|

"Tell me the story again Ms. Paula." The head mistress sighed.

"I can't repeat myself every night, Lane."

I gave my biggest puppy eyes, the best an eight

year old orphan could. She made another big sigh,

it was her favorite thing to do. "It was a cold, bitter, miserable night."

She started, making sure I knew how terrible the day was.

"There was a knock, and then terrible, horrible screeching. God

I thought a beast from hell was at my doorsteps."

I stayed silent, knowing better then to try to correct her.

"I peaked out the window, and saw a wailing baby, swaddled in pink,

I was so delighted, FINALLY, a baby girl, because all we had were boys here.

So, I took you inside, and was going to change your diapers, and to my surprise,

I found that you were a boy, Imagine that! a boy, wrapped in pink." She squealed

, relishing in the drama. She clapped her dried hands together, informing me,

like every night, that the story was over and I was to sleep.

| | | | |

"Lane Walker! get your ass down here!" The headmistress yelled.

I stayed silent, rushing down the stairs, Ms.Paula didn't tolerate

tardiness, which I always was. The other boys snickered as my hands

shook. "Why are you late, Mr.Walker?" She put her face inches from mine.

kissing your daughter, I thought. "Probably practicing his gay pride!" the boy

next to me hollered, "He has been for seventeen years!" Another added.

And thankfully laughter erupted into the room, giving me

an excuse to not make one. "You can't continue this!" She scolded me.

"My apologies, Mistress." I breathed. "Get to your chores all of ye!" She yelled once more.

Dismissing us.