A Proper Story

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Once upon a time...

A Proper Story
by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney


... for I was once told that a proper story has only one of two ways that it begins, "Once upon a time..." being the one that just plain makes me feel cozier... There is only two proper ways to end a story, as well, but we'll get to that part when appropriate. Telling the ending at the beginning? Absurd. I said this was a PROPER story.

So.


Once upon a time...

There was a boy. At least, that's what everyone around him said. He was loved by his parents -- even his father made it known how much he loved the boy, even though it was not something that was considered 'okay' for men to admit to anyone but a wife. Yes, society is a strange thing, but we'll not get into that just now.

Anyway, the boy knew his parents loved him. This means they would never lie to him. So he must be a boy. They wanted the best for him, and to these two wonderfully caring adults, that meant the best education. They searched all around the land, and the found a school, nearly on one of the edges of the vast country they lived in, that fit what they wanted.

They knew that the best teachers taught at private schools because they were compensated better, so it had to be a private school. But most private schools were boarding schools and they didn't want their son to have to deal with not having them close at hand until he was ready to be an adult his own self -- they firmly believed that loving parents would be involved in their children's lives as much as possible. The school they had found was one that allowed students to not board if they lived in the nearby town. So the little family moved to the not-so-small village known in their vast land as Bahstun, which had this school on its outskirts when the little boy was but 10 years old, just old enough to begin at the Williston School that fall.

And that is where our story really begins...


Nice dramatic, and expository, introduction don't you think? Well, it may not be the work of the masters of old, but it is the proper way to start a fanciful tale...


Now, the little boy's parents were the kind of parents that would look into everything to make sure of what was what for their child. So, when he asked them when he was little why boys didn't wear skirts... they found actual concrete answers before answering.

Turns out, boys do wear skirts. Depending on things like culture and societal norms -- which seemed to the parents to be very silly limiting factors on the expression and fashion sense of a child, so they set about seeing what they could do about it.

They told and showed him that in most of the world, skirts for boys were called, "kilts," and were accepted as normal even in their own country, to a point. Some boys and men in their country were so proud of having ancestors from the kilt-wearing countries that they wore kilts, too!

But, the little boy pointed out that the kilts were kind of limited in colors and designs, and not all that fun-looking. The two parent people had to agree with him and researched some more.

The next examples they brought to their precious child were of the berobed nobles of many cultures, and the rich colours and designs that the robes could be found in. Again, these were available in their own country by those proud of their heritage.

But... the little boy pointed out that the men in the robes could easily be just wearing the robes over their clothing and be expected to remove the robes.

Again, they had to agree and returned to the library.

This time, they had what they thought must be the answer.

Their answer was that it didn't matter, as society and culture are made up of many differences. They asked the little boy if he wanted to wear skirts, was that what this was about?

Well, of course, but he didn't want to offend anyone.

Why, who would be offended by something so silly as the type of garment someone was wearing. That would be quite a strange thing! Laughable, in fact!

The little boy was wise well beyond his tender years. But he also trusted that his parents would protect him -- or see to it he was protected when they were unable to be with him -- if such a thing were to happen.

So it was that it came to pass that the little boy arrived for his first day at the Williston School and was promptly informed by the Headmaster that he would have to return home to dress in a way that would cause less confusion, and would comply with the Dress Code of the rules of the Williston School.

Confused, the little boy used the telephone in the Headmaster's office and his parents retrieved him only a short time after they had delivered him.

The three of them spent the remainder of that day, aside from breaks for meals and enjoying a rollicking good television program together that afternoon, studying this new information the Headmaster provided that was the Williston School Dress Code.

Male students, it proclaimed, would be dressed in a certain way each day, in a way that showed that individuality was allowed -- but only slightly. The little boy cried out at the allowances made, as they were so minor as to be non-existant. He asked what a male student was, and received in reply that it was something he needn't worry about at the moment, but that they (the two good parents) would explain it fully before they returned with the little boy to the school.

Female students, it proclaimed, would ALSO be dressed in a certain way each day, but the individuality that was allowed was much more widely varied and showed much more character allowed. There was also such that said the hair of a female student must be styled long, but again the variety in the hairstyles that were allowed as long as they were long comprised quite a long list, indeed! The hair of the male students was outlined to be preferred to be short and above the collar, but that if longer than that must be worn in a specific type of style with no variation.

The little boy explained that if he had to choose based on this Dress Code, that he would be a female student. He had already surmised that female was different from male, and assumed that the parents that so lovingly went over this material with him would answer his question about what a female student was the same way they had answered his question about what a male student was.

The parents sadly informed the little boy that the Headmaster would consider the little boy to be a male student.

The little boy asked if there was no way he could be a female student, instead?

The parents returned to research and found that because of the difference in the Dress Code, the Williston School was not allowed to actually state that one Dress Code was for male students and the other for female students, due to something called a Sexual Discrimination Law (the little boy was told that he wouldn't need to know what that was in detail until he was an adult). So, if the Headmaster tried to protest, he would be breaking an actual law! So long as the little boy adhered completely to one Dress Code or the other and did not switch between them, the Headmaster could only protest and nothing more. The little boy could not be punished.


The ending mentioned above is approaching, and there are two that are appropriate for a proper story. One is, of course, to state at the time in which an ending is supplied, "... and they lived Happily Ever After!" and the other is the one that I have chosen to use, as it makes more sense for this type of tale.


And so, a week later, when the little boy was marched back into the Williston School, he was fully following the Dress Code for female students. His pretty blouse matched his stockings, his court shoes with a half-inch heel were highly polished, his skirt was not only knee-length but actually an inch below his knees, and his hair styled long (done by the two parents having what was called extensions added to the hair already there at a salon so that he wouldn't violate the Williston School female student Dress Code by having short hair) was gathered into two pigtails which was one of the approved styles.

The Headmaster did, indeed, protest, but a man named Mister Uhturnee who was a friend of the parents accompanied them that morning and pulled the Headmaster aside to talk when he protested. Mister Uhturnee kept spelling a word the little boy was unfamiliar with, and sounded like a sneeze when he tried to pronounce it privately to himself. Ay See Ell Yoo, Ackloo.

The Headmaster decided that the little boy could be considered a female student as long as he adhered to the Williston School female student Dress Code, and to keep from causing problems with the other students (who might be jealous, the two good parents explained to the little boy) would have to pretend to be named something different and instead of being called he or him or his would have to be called she or her or hers.

That wasn't too difficult and if it meant that he (sorry, she) wouldn't have to wear the boring clothes from the Williston School male student Dress Code, then she would gladly pretend her name was different.

... And they're still alive today!

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Comments

Highly unlikely

Totally implausible, hilarious. Could I please have a friend like Mr. Uhturnee?

I can just see 'Old Nunc', our headmaster, falling for that one - NOT!

BTW, not far from where I live is the Willaston school where the world worm-charming championships are held. Someone had the idea for a fund-raising stunt and it became an annual event.

Susie

http://www.wormcharming.com/

Well Of Course, Susan,

Everyone MUST have heard of the world-famous Worm Charming Championships, just as they have of the Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling Contests ( people come all the way from America to compete in chasing down a hill after a cheese being rolled down from the top, un-deterred by the ambulances waiting to take those with broken legs to the Hospital, and then there are the famous, mysterious Morris Dancers - men who dress up all pretty with bells and bows and dance and sing merrie sissie olde englande Songs outside village pubs....

We started a drain fishing event when I was at uni in London, which I think caught on, for Rag Week, although the not so famous Woodlouse races alas did not (there are Snail-racing events though!)

Many and Diverse are the peculier and bizarre pastimes that enrich the traditions and help while away the time in the Post-Industrial Nation of Grreat Britain. People come from all over just to marvel and be amazed.

This was a really nice story.

Briar

Briar

HURRAH!

I have never grown up, so I still like fairy stories with happy endings! This one was fun. Just because one could see the end almost before finishing reading the beginning, enhanced the pleasure, because one could enjoy it in anticipation as well !

Briar

Briar

Very Cute!

So that's where I went wrong so long ago! Guess I should have been more consistent. Maybe if I had gotten to know Mr. Uhturnee, he could have used his Ackloo to help.

Hugs
Carla Ann

Whereabouts was this school?

In a thicker than normal part of the country.

Funee!

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

Interesting Fairy Tale

Interesting and different approach to a subject
of interest to many. What is the little boy to
do when other boys see him as a girl and have a
platonic interest that grows to a romantic interest.