Daddy's Sweetie

Printer-friendly version
Daddy’s Sweetie

“Karl, I’ve tried everything I could think of to make a man of you, but you’ve shown no interest. Isn’t that true, son?”

“Yes, I suppose it is, dad.” For years I’d resisted every activity my father had suggested to “man me up” – soccer, little league, hunting and fishing, watching sports, and now the Boy Scouts. It was much more fun to stay home, play with Jane, and help mom.

“It is crazy for a person to keep trying the same thing and expect different results. I’m not crazy, so I’m not going to try to man you up any more. It’s hopeless, because it cuts across your nature. From now on, I’m going to reinforce your nature. At first, it might be a little stressful, but in the end, I think we’ll all be a lot happier. How does that sound, Karl?”

“It sounds pretty good. You know I want to please you, but the things you’re always pushing just aren’t any fun for me. Can you understand that, dad?”

“Yes, it’s finally sunk in. That’s why I’m changing course. To start with, I want you to call me ‘daddy,’ like Jane does. Will you do that for me Karl?”

“If that’s what you want dad…dy.”

“Good, and from now on, I’m going to call you ‘sweetie.’ OK?”

“But that’s what you call Jane.”

“You’re right, sweetie. Remember when you asked why I didn’t ask Jane to do the things I asked you to do? Now I’m going to treat you two more equally. OK?”

“I guess.” I wondered where this is going? Still, dad … daddy had always been more affectionate with Jane. I felt jealous. It might feel strange at first, but I might like being daddy’s “sweetie.”

“You’re not sure?”

“No, it would be nice, … daddy.”

“Good, sweetie. Now go play with Jane, she has a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. A surprise. Please accept it graciously and thank her. Will you do that, … sweetie?”

“Yes, daddy.” I’m always nice to Jane – I didn’t need to be told. As I left to find Jane, daddy gave me an affectionate swat on the rear, as he often did with Jane. It felt strange, but nice.

“Jane, daddy said you have a surprise for me?”

“Yes, he took me shopping yesterday, and told me to buy nail polish for us to share. He said I should show you how to use it. Here! Don’t you love the color? Orchid Scintillation. Hmmm!” She wriggled her fingers for me to see. She was bubbling at the thought of us wearing the same polish.

I was in shock. My surprise was nail polish?? I wanted to scream I wasn’t a sissy who wore nail polish, but I didn’t want to ruin her happiness -- and, I’d promised daddy to be gracious. Also, a small part of me wondered what polish would feel like.

I let Jane show me how polish my toes. Then she asked me to do hers. I felt trapped until I saw how happy it made Jane. By the time I finished her toes mine were dry. Seeing how shiny and sparkly they were made me feel funny. I couldn’t stop looking. When I finally broke their spell, Jane had done three fingers on my right hand. I let her finish, figuring I could remove it in a bit.

“Let’s go show mommy and daddy!” she said excitedly.

“I thought we’d just wear it in your room a while, then I’d take it off.”

“How?”

“Isn’t there stuff that takes polish off? Like paint remover?”

“Well, mommy has some for when my nails look tacky, but I don’t have any. Besides, daddy said you’d be wearing polish from now on.”

“What?!”

“Daddy said you’d be wearing polish from now on.”

“I heard you, I just don’t believe it.”

She was looking upset. “Karlie, I never lie to you. Daddy told me you’d be wearing polish from now on when we were shopping yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were lying. I just can’t believe he’d say that. Only a sissy would wear polish all the time.” Or at all, I thought – looking at my nails.

“I wear polish all the time. Now we can wear it together. I saw how you were looking at your toes. I know you like it. You think it is pretty, don’t you?”

Jane didn’t lie to me and I didn’t lie to her. “Well, I kinda like it, but boys aren’t supposed to wear polish.”

“That’s OK, cuz daddy said he’s not going to make you be a boy anymore. You’re going to be a sweetie, like me,” she beamed.

Suddenly, I got very scared, and started crying. I sat on Jane’s bed with my head in my hands crying softly. Jane tried to figure out what was wrong and comforted me with hugs and sisterly kisses.

Finally, I calmed down enough to tell her what was wrong. “Daddy’s making me a sissy!”

“No, he’s not Karlie.”

“Yes he is – look at my nails.”

“So? Daddy didn’t do them. I did, and you liked it.”

“But everyone’s going to think I’m a sissy.”

“That’s not the same as daddy making you a sissy. Mommy told me we all have to learn to be what God made us. He made you a sweetie. Isn’t that true?”

“Well, maybe. But, I don’t want to wear polish all the time.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“I do, but people will think I’m a sissy.”

“You care more about what people think than what makes you happy?”

“I guess I do.”

“Maybe that’s why daddy decided you should wear polish – so you can learn to care about what makes you happy.”

When my tears dried, Jane took my hand and led me out to show mommy and daddy our matching nails.

“That is a good color for you both, and Jane, you did a professional job,” mommy said. “Karl, you should have started wearing polish long ago. Your hands look ever so much better.”

I looked at my hands again, but tried to look unhappy.

At first, daddy was silent. Then he said, “Sweetie, you’re trying hard to look unhappy. Tell the truth, do you like how your nails look?”

“Yes, daddy, but I don’t want to wear polish all the time. People will think I’m a sissy.”

“You don’t have to wear it forever, just until you stop caring what people think.”

For the next few days nothing further happened, except that Jane offered me a floral barrette so our hair would match. It was very pretty – she has good taste – and mommy said I’d look cute in it. I said no. I was still tying to convince people – or maybe myself – that I wasn’t a sissy.

I wasn’t doing a very good job. Whenever I saw my nails I got all tingly – especially my boy part. Their sparkling fascinated me, making it hard to hide how much I liked them. When we went grocery shopping, I started with my hand in my pockets, but soon took them out to grab my favorites. No one said anything. By the end of the week I stopped thinking about wearing polish.

I was playing with Jane in the back when Betty came over with a toy suitcase.

“That’s really nice polish you two are wearing – not like the cheap stuff my mom buys me,” she said wriggling her blue fingernails.

“We can do yours, if you like,” responded Jane.

“Thanks.

“Karl how come you’re wearing nail polish now? I mean boys don’t usually wear polish.” Betty’s tone was curious, not mean.

I didn’t know what to say. My face was red. I wasn’t sure if I’d cry, run into the house, or both.

“He likes how it looks, so Daddy said he should wear it.”

“That’s very brave, Karl. Do you really like it?”

“Thanks. I do – it makes my nails look pret… I mean shiny and sparkly. Please don’t tell anyone – they’ll call me a sissy.”

“Well, they are pretty. Being sissy just means that you’re sweet, like pretty things and don’t want to get hurt. Boys who aren’t sissies are loco en la cabeza. You’ve always been more like Jane and me than a loco niño.”

“Don’t you think it is weird that I like … ah … pretty nails?”

“Why should I? I like them too.”

“But I’m a boy.”

“That is not your fault. I’ve never held it against you.”

I didn’t know what to say. When I stopped thinking about what Betty had said, she and Jane were in the middle of a new topic.

“… My Tia Constanza made them for me. Aren’t they beautiful?” Betty was showing Jane tiny dresses from her satchel.

“Let’s go up and try them on my Barbies. Come on, Karlie.”

“I don’t like playing with dolls.”

“How do you know when you’ve never tried? … Besides, it’s no fun to play alone.”

I followed along reluctantly, thinking I’d just watch. After a few minutes, I saw Jane pair a lime blouse with a chartreuse skirt. “Those really clash,” I told her.

“Well, I couldn’t find a top to match the green in this skirt. If you’re so smart, show me a better top,” she said handing me her Ken doll and the skirt.

Mommy had taught me complementary colors were more interesting than matches. After putting the chartreuse skirt on Ken, I found a pink floral print top that made a striking contrast.

“Wow, Karlie, that looks way better. What do you think, Betty?”

Muy bueno, Carlita!”

I was very proud of myself, and started getting into dressing the dolls. Sadly, many of the skirts wouldn’t stretch to fit Ken’s waist. “It’s not fair, some of these clothes don’t fit Ken.”

“He needs a larger size, sweetie,” said mommy from Jane’s doorway. I didn’t know how long she’d been watching. Embarrassed, I dropped Ken like a hot potato. I didn’t know what to do. One minute I was having fun, the next I was caught being a hopeless sissy. I started tearing up and ran for the door, trying to squeeze past mommy.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your fun. There is nothing wrong with playing dolls or dressing Ken in skirts.” She said as she held me tight.

My emotions poured out of my eyes. “I’m such a sissy!”

“Yes, mommy’s sissy boy,” she said giving me a firm squeeze and a kiss on the forehead that made me feel loved and accepted. “You know, you’re old enough to learn to sew. You could make outfits that fit Ken. Would you like that?”

“Maybe,” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“Oh, please do, Karlie. Then you could make clothes for Barbie and Melissa too!”

“I guess it might be fun, mommy. And, Jane, if I make anything for Ken, I will make something for your Barbies too.”

Jane rushed over and gave me a hug, followed by Betty.

“I’ll even make something for Juanita, Betty, but it won’t be as nice as what your tia made.”

That afternoon, mommy showed me how to make simple skirts using her sewing machine. I made four skirts with elastic waists – one for each of the dolls.

When I went into the living room to show Jane, daddy was home.

“Let me see, sweetie,” he said. “Not bad for a first effort, Karl. You have hidden talents. I’m proud of you.”

I couldn’t remember him saying he was proud of something I’d done before, so I felt a warm glow inside, even though what he was proud of was something a girl would do.

The next day, mommy took Jane and me shopping. I always hated shopping for Jane because I was always bored doing nothing. Instead of going right to the stores (there was always more than one), we went to the salon. My hair hadn’t been cut since spring and was quite shaggy.

I never got excited over haircuts, but Jane was more eager than usual. When we were done, our cuts were similar. The only difference was hers was a longer. She was thrilled. I don’t mean my hair looked girlie, but it wasn’t boyish either. In fact, it gave no clue whether I was a boy or a girl. Then I pushed back a stray strand. My orchid nails made all the difference.

I waited until we were outside to complain. “Mommy, I look like a tomboy or a sissy with this hair and my nails.”

“Karl, you didn’t want people thinking you’re a sissy. Now they can’t be sure you’re not a tomboy. Isn’t that better?”

I didn’t know what to say. Maybe it was better. No one laughed at tomboys. I was still puzzling it out when we went into Ross.

“Sweetie, you showed you have a good eye in dressing Ken. Why don’t you help Jane pick out some shorts and tops?”

Maybe shopping wouldn’t be so boring if I got to pick things out. Mommy wondered off while Jane and I looked over the racks in the girls’ section. I enjoyed finding things she’d look cute in. Jane was thrilled at the attention. By the time mommy came back we’d found three pairs of shorts and four tops.

“You both like these?”

“Yes, mommy,” Jane said.

I nodded in agreement.

“OK. You need panties. Go pick out some you like and I’ll be right along.”

Jane ran off.

“Go along with Jane, sweetie.”

I was embarrassed to be shopping for girl’s underwear, even if it was for Jane. Still, I was able to help. She couldn’t decide between Disney Princess panties and a package with heart and flower patterns.

“What do you think Karlie?”

“The Princess panties are cute, but the hearts and flowers ones look more grown up.”

“You’re right. They are much more grown up. Thank you. You’re the best big sister ever.”

I was about to say I wasn’t her sister when mommy arrived, asking what we’d decided.

“I like the hearts and flowers ones, and Jane agrees.”

Mommy tossed them in the cart along with a second package. “OK. You two go look at shoes while I check out. If you see any you like you can show me and we’ll compare at Payless.”

They didn’t have many children’s shoes, so we didn’t take long. Mommy was waiting in the front when we finished. Next, we drove to the shoe store. Mommy sent us for sandals. Jane found white ones that showed off her toes. To my surprise, mommy picked out a second pair in my size.

“Try these on, please,” she said handing me a pair of disposable socks.

“They’re girls sandals.”

“The shoes you have on are obviously boys’. Do you want people to think you are a sissy or a tomboy?”

“A tomboy,” I said reluctantly.

“Then you need new shoes.”

To make a long story short, I left wearing white open-toed sandals, carrying a bag with black patent block-heel Mary Janes, and pink and white Adidas. I looked like a tomboy, but I knew I was a sissy.

Our final stop was JoAnne’s. Mommy let Jane and I pick out remnants. She also bought me a book on making doll clothes and my own shears.

I got another surprise when we got home. Only a few of the things we’d picked out were for Jane. Most, including one pack of panties, were for me.

Each morning for the next week, mommy laid out panties, shorts, a top and shoes for me just as she did for Jane. It was very embarrassing to wear girls’ clothes, but also exciting. I got a definite tingle as I dressed, and secretly liked the bright colors and soft fabrics I’d picked out for Jane. Just as with the nail polish, I got used to wearing panties and girls’ shorts and tops. After all, shorts are shorts, and the tops weren’t flowery or frilly, just cut a little different from my boy’s tops.

Daddy would say how cute I looked and tell me how much he liked the things I'd picked out. Jane got a little jealous and said she’d helped too, so daddy complimented her as well.

Whenever we went shopping, people assumed I was a tomboy because I didn’t act very girly. Still, I started getting complements on my looks and manners along with Jane, and they made me feel good. I found myself walking, talking and acting more like girl to win more compliments.

After the first week, mommy said I was old enough to pick out my own clothes. Sometimes I’d wear my boy clothes, but if Betty came to play or we were going out, I wore my girl’s clothes. As time went on, I wore boy clothes less and less. After a couple of weeks, I asked mommy for more panties so I’d have enough to get through the week.

Mommy took me to Victoria’s Secret. We got a pack of pastel panties with satin bow in the front, and a pair of lacy pink coral boy shorts that were on sale. “Just for fun,” mommy said. They were quite expensive, but so pretty I couldn’t wait to get home and try them.

Jane, Betty and I continued to play with our dolls. Betty was quite an artist and had given Ken a make over —painting lipstick, eye shadow and blush on him. I learned to design and sew stylish dresses for the dolls. One day, as I was sewing Ken an asymmetrical off the shoulder I’d designed, mommy asked me if I’d like to wear a dress.

“Well, not all the time, but sometimes it would be fun, like when we all go to dinner. I’m too old to be in shorts like Jane. A dress would go nice with my MJs.”

“Would you like to make one or have me buy you one?”

“Maybe both? I mean I’d like to make one, but I’m not sure how it would turn out. I’d like to be sure of having a nice one. Would that be OK?”

“Of course, sweetie. Do you trust me to surprise you, or would you like to shop with me?”

“I trust you. It would be fabulous for my first dress to be a surprise.”

My twelfth birthday was a few days later. Mommy and daddy gave me a burgundy skater dress. I ran and put it on, but it didn’t fit right. I had nothing to fill the front. I almost cried.

Mommy came in with a box. “Girls your age often need a bit of help, Karlie.” In the box was a lacy A-cup push up that matched my boy shorts, and a pair of pads to fill it out. Once she helped me into it, my dress fit perfectly. I twirled and the skirt flared out. I felt dreamy!

“Oh! Thank you mommy,” I said kissing her.

“Go thank your dad. It was all his idea. I had my doubts, but now I know he was right.”

I ran into the living room, did a twirl, jumped into my daddy’s lap and gave him a huge hug and kiss.

up
309 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Unusual story that the Dad

Unusual story that the Dad would be the one to start all this with his 'son'; however it is a very nice and sweet story. Would be interesting to read more about Karlie's developing girlhood.

Thanks for your kind comment.

Thanks for your kind comment. I think I'll leave this as a one of.

Ok

Dahlia's picture

So dad has given up on making a boy/man out of his son but to go the complete opposite seems a bit radical. It's not really a forced feminization story but more of a suggestive leading. LOL, very well written and I too would say it would be interesting to see where this story line could lead.

Dahlia

Thanks for commenting.

Thanks for commenting. Remember that Daddy's first goal was not radical femininization, but getting Karl past what others thought of him. In a way, that is a continuation of "manning him up," and not a complete reversal.

I will think about a continuation, but no promises. I am happy with the story as it is.

Love, Andra

Fast-paced

This was a fast-paced transition without much suspense or drama. Still, it is a cute story and you write with sincerity.

Hiker_JPG_1.jpg

Thanks

Dear Torrey,

Thanks for taking the time to comment. I*t always helps to have feedback.

Love, Andra

A Belated 'Like'

Just ran across this story and found it charming. It was well-written and skillfully got our lovely young child to become the girl he apparently was destined to be. As much as I might like to see a sequel, I'm inclined to agree with the author that sometimes a single short story like this is great. Let us imagine how Karlie handles going to school and facing the challenges that so many of us (who felt girlish) suffered in our early teens.

Thanks for the kind words. I

Thanks for the kind words. I think open ends allow room for imagination.

Love, Andra

Simply wonderful

What a darling story. It's a little fast and could have used a bit of embellishment, but the heart and soul of this story is just so wonderful.

Thank you

Thank you so much, for the appreciation.