“So you have two moms?”

SCENE: The mall play area for children. There are about a dozen children ranging in age from 18 months to 9 clambering around and jumping from the soft, foamed structures. Parents and guardians sit on the benches that surround the area. Some are bored and stare at their phones, others watch the children.

I am dressed en femme with some light makeup. Skinny jeans, boots over them nearly reaching my knees, and a lavender crossover top with a black tank top underneath. Dangly earrings hang from my ears and a pendant above my décolleté. This is the first time I’ve been out and about en femme like this in a few years. The first time ever like this in daylight.

My children are playing and being the energetic young boys that they are. My wife is shopping at Macy’s. A grandmother sits down next to me and helps her granddaughters, 4 and 5, take off their shoes. My oldest is playing with a girl about his age.

ME: “They’re a lot of work, aren’t they?”
GRANDMOTHER: “Yes, they are!”

She smiles at me and does not stare, double-take, or take furtive glances at me. The children play. A man sitting alone across the way keeps looking at me. He looks puzzled.

My wife arrives.

ME: “Find anything?”
WIFE: “I found some boots I wanted to try on, but no one would help me.”
ME: “That sucks.”
WIFE: “Yeah, I’m really annoyed.”

My oldest is standing on top of a structure next to the girl he is playing with. They are looking at us.

GIRL: “Who are you here with?”
BOY: “My mom and dad.”
GIRL: “Where are they?”
BOY: “Right there.” <He gestures towards us.>

The girl looks confused.

GIRL: “Who?”
BOY: “My mom and dad. Right there.” <He points again.>
GIRL: “Oh, so you have two moms?” <She looks relieved.>
BOY: “No. That’s my dad there.” <He points directly at me.>

The girl looks _very_ confused.

My wife looks…angry? Mortified? Like she’s been kicked in the gut? Sad? All of that?

GIRL: “What!?”

<My son whispers something to her. She doesn’t look convinced.>

GIRL: “Boys can wear boots like that?”

<She side eyes me like she’s trying to figure something out, shrugs, and moves on.>


About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
This entry was posted in coming out, family, humor, personal history, random, self-acceptance and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to “So you have two moms?”

  1. Lesboi says:

    This reminds me of the scene in Transparent (if you haven’t seen it, I apologize, but I hope you have) where Maura goes into the Women’s Room at the mall with her two daughters and they keep calling her Dad. Awkward!


  2. Joyful Girl says:

    Oh how awkward! On the bright side, it sounds like you’re passing really well. 🙂 Did you wind up talking with your son about it after? I’m so curious how you’re navigating all this.


  3. janitorqueer says:

    that is awkward – hopefully now that some time has passed, there is some humor in the retelling though!!! there’s some similarities to my most recent post… the ways kids react to gender can be really intriguing!


  4. cistotrans says:

    It was awkward in a way. I had to stifle myself from laughing, actually. It definitely triggered my wife though, and I feel bad for her as it stirred her pot of loss. 😦

    I did talk to my son yesterday about it and he told me that when he whispered to her, he told her I was the one in the blue shirt, so at least he didn’t tell her what was going on with me. 😮


  5. cistotrans says:

    ..and thanks for commenting, all! (I have Transparent on my list of things to watch when I get the time.)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Pingback: Maybe I could call you Heather? | Becoming Me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.