The Tracey’s

For no good reason, Addison told me I was a boy.

I know I have short hair and I don’t wear dresses or skirts, but that doesn’t really just make me a boy.  I think.  I never took gender studies.

In an effort to not start a screaming war with her (we really get into it about the number of toes she has), I decided to be a little sensible and ask her if she was a girl or a boy.

Addy is a boy

And then I figured, oh that’s simple.  She just has it backwards.

So I asked if Daddy was a girl or a boy.

Daddy is a boy.

Then I wondered if “boy” was a generic term.  Like for a long time she called all children “babies”.  Now they are all “hey kid” unless they are a tiny baby.

Without getting into genitalia, I think we have her straightened out.  After she asked again in Target and the lady got an earful of me trying to included the Tracey’s* of the world.  I was like “ok generally speaking there are two kinds of people” but who cares what Mommy is talking about when they have a Sofia the First toy in hand.

Then after our little checkout talk, she ran into some kid on the slide and yelled “get out the way boy!”

*One time my friends and I were out late and went to IHOP after clubbing or whatever to eat.  The host..ess was an early early stage transsexual named Tracey with poor makeup and just enough hormone pills digested to have a training bra.  Or an ugly girl.  We never learned fully what the deal was.