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272 pages, Paperback
First published November 5, 2020
When the world split wide open, it was a November evening. We had just walked in the front door and were shedding the day’s damp coats and bags. Outside, the Seattle sky was preparing for an early bedtime, transforming the cloud ceiling from old-pillow gray to the color of wet ash. I reached out to flip on the lights and felt my child slip his hand into mine
“Mama,” he said, “something went wrong in your tummy.”
I heard my purse hit the floor.
“It did?”
“Yes,” he said. “And it made me come out as a boy instead of a girl.”
My child contemplated his plate of buttered noodles and said, “I wish I could drink a potion that would make my penis melt off.” Then he smiled, looking pleased with his great idea, like when he had suggested we build him a bed out of LEGOs.
“It isn’t nice when you do that, Mama.”
He glared at me in the rearview mirror.
Do what?”
“When you tell people I’m a boy. It is not nice.”
“But you are a boy, sweetheart,” I said. It didn’t seem fair not to say what was true.
“You’re a boy because you have a pen—”
“No,” he interrupted me. “I’m never a boy.”
I had no idea how to argue with this declaration. But I also wasn’t prepared to agree with it, so I opted for a compromise.
“OK,” I said. “I’ll stop telling people you’re not a girl. Would that make you feel better?”
He snorted, rolling his eyes, as if to say, If that’s the best you can do, lady. For now, it was.
How his face lit up when people mistook him for a girl. How for his fourth birthday, he asked for a poofy party dress and a vagina.
“I was able to give him just one of those,” I joked, wanting to hear people laugh, and they obliged.