elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- knee gravel When I was a child, I was forbidden by my father to wear either shorts or skirts when I went outside to play. Luckily, I owned maybe one dress and that was for Christmas and birthday parties. But the shorts thing, I resented. It wasn't modesty that my father was championing, however. It was a quest to keep me lady-like, something which, in his mind, at least, meant unscarred knees. Apparently if I even stepped foot outside in short pants, I would fall down, skin my knees, be scarred for life, and then no boys would want to marry me. My dad has a lot of little quirks like this, things I blame on him having three grown up sons before I was even a gleam in my mother's eye. I'm his only girl, and because of that, he wanted a girl. Someone who looks pretty all the time and doesn't think a lot. I didn't really end up like he wanted, since I think most of the time and rarely try to look pretty. Plus, lesbian. Anyway. You see, today, I was wearing shorts, I fell down, I skinned my knees. And they'll probably scar. Along with the 14 000 other scars I have on my legs, it's really not a big deal. But I want to call up my father and apologize, tell him he was right, less because of the threat of being scarred and more because it's never fun to pick bits of gravel out of your mutilated knee. 7:03 p.m. - 2003-07-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||