Mean, Scary Tex! (Who is like unto a boy.)

My butch husband now has a pseudonym: Tex. This is because our next story requires that she have a name. Ok: two nights ago, Seth was faffing around, postponing getting into bed by various methods, mostly having to do with sorting through his Magic cards. Then he asked if he could take a bath. I said ok, but told him to ask Tex if she needed to get into the bathroom first. He looked up at me with an innocent expression,

“Could you, Mom?”

“No.” I started walking out of the room – he’s always trying to get out of doing things, the original Mr. No we call him.

“But Mom, wait.” He still had the innocent expression, frowning just a bit. I had turned back and was looking at him perplexedly. He continued, “To tell you the truth, Mom, I’m a little bit scared of her. I mean, is she a girl or a boy?”

At this point I was scoffing and laughing at the same time and I really did leave the room and he went down to ask her about the bathroom, also laughing.

Last night at dinner I suddenly remembered Seth’s joke and related it to the whole table, and we all had a good chuckle. “Mean, scary Tex!” said Tex, who often remarks that she’s the evil step parent. “I’m a girl who is like unto a boy.”

“That sounds like a song!” said Owen, and immediately the two of them started singing, “Mean, scary Tex!” and then Tex added, “Who is like unto a boy!” and then I added, “Stay out of her way, stay out of her way, stay out of her way – she will steal your joy!”

We were all cracking up. It was one of those moments where everybody is completely at ease with who we are, like that wonderful scene in “The Kids Are All Right” when the sister, on her way off to college, says to the brother something like, “I’m sorry to leave you with the moms…”

Even just a year ago, Seth was feeling completely put upon by our queerness, and here he is, joking around. I can’t say I don’t miss his babyhood, the curls, the serious expression on his fat little toddler face, the sweet way he spoke in his little boy voice, but people, I am loving seeing him come into his manself, his sense of humor, the way he’s starting to feel more at ease in the world.

We are a queer family. We are a happy family – like and unlike any other. And as I’ve mentioned elsewhere in this blog, I am one lucky mama.

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Published in: on January 11, 2011 at 9:06 AM  Leave a Comment  

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