In grade school, we wore navy blue pants and white dress shirts. The boys had triangular collars, while the girls wore the rounded ones that little Catholic school girls wear. There was an unfortunate era when my sister and I wore the same size shirt even though we were two years apart. And, of course, there was that day. One of those days that sticks with you forever and came back to me the other day when I was trying on used sweaters at an outdoor market in Amsterdam.
“This is a girl’s sweater,” I said to Susan.
“Oh no, it’s not. It looks good on you,” she answered.
“Irrelevant how it looks, the buttons are on the wrong side.”
Back to grade school. The unlucky day must have been around 5th grade, and it was made clear to me by my teacher that I was wearing a girl’s shirt. She asked, of course, in front of the class, “Are you wearing your sister’s clothes?”
The class turned and erupted in laughter.
“Stork-dork’s wearing a girl’s shirt!”
So my question is this: was it I who was half asleep while dressing, watching Woody Woodpecker, or was it my father who was half asleep while he ironed our shirts that morning? Where were the parental checks and balances to sound the buzzer for these things? Was this just a “boy named Sue” moment in which my father tested me on how I would handle the rigors of manhood? The only thing it has taught me is to pay extra attention to which side the buttons are on and what shape the collar is.
love these catholic stories