It Wasn't A Mistake - 08

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It Wasn't a Mistake
by Tiffany B. Quinn

How bad can things get? In his darkest hour, Jerry finds out that his life has been one big character test... And he passed!

Samantha struggles with being perceived as Jeri's mother.

Chapter Eight: Motherhood

Day two is turning out to be interesting.

Samantha and I decided to attend church in the congregation which Bill and Helen attend. They live in the next town down the road—or is that up the road? This is a church that I have never attended as we don’t live in this town. Anyway, I am able to attend without anyone knowing that I’m a sixty year old man. It’s a good first outing fully kitted out as a girl.

After some discussion yesterday, the girls agreed that I could go by the feminine version of my first name without too much issue, so today I am Jeri, a late developing thirteen year old girl. Samantha had me add small baggies of birdseed into the cups of my training bra for appearances sake. I appear to have an almost A cup set of breasts. The loose fitting sundress hides my lack of curves.

I got a few reminders about how to sit, how to get in and out of a car and other little things that girls learn while growing up. For now, I’m being passed off as a tom boy in a dress.

I should point out that Samantha and I have essentially the same hair color and texture. It is something which she inherited from my side of the family. I think that I am taking on the characteristics I would have had if I had been my parent’s daughter. My looks are also morphing in that direction. The end result is that it is very apparent that Samantha and I are blood relatives. As she has also taken on some physical characteristics (i.e. nose and eye shape) from her mother’s side of the family, we are not twins.

“Are you and your daughter joining us or just visiting?” One woman asked Samantha before the service. Samantha is only thirty so she’s not quite old enough to be my apparent mother unless I was born when she was seventeen.

“Just visiting,” Samantha replied after thinking about it briefly. “Actually, Jeri here is a younger cousin of mine. I don’t have any children.”

“Oh my,” the woman looked a bit taken aback. “Sorry about that, she just looks so much like you I just assumed she was yours.”

Standing by the woman was a mid-teen girl who is developing quite nicely. The girl seemed to be proud of the fact as she’s wearing a dress which shows every curve—a little racy for church, in my opinion. The girl is also an inch or two taller than me. She looks bored.

“This is my daughter, Brittany,” the woman introduced the girl. “She can help Jeri find her way to the youth Sunday School after the main service, can’t you dear?”

“Sure Mom,” the girl replied without enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you Jeri, see you after the service.”

Well, that was anti-climactic.

The service was good but the Sunday School class was an eye opener. I have taught teens in several capacities over the years. It’s always been a struggle to get them engaged and the current teacher wasn’t all that experienced. Brittany dutifully escorted me to class and introduced me to a few of the girls. A couple of the boys—to the chagrin of the girls—asked if I was moving in and showed me lots of attention. This is attention that I think some of the regular attending girls wish they were receiving. I suppose it is the new kid complex where the new kid is always more interesting than those who have been around a while.

After the meetings were over, we all went out for lunch at a local chain restaurant.

“…and what can I get for you and your daughter?” the waiter asked Samantha when taking our order. I had to stifle a giggle at that. Samantha just looked daggers at me. She told the waiter that her young cousin could order for herself.

That’s two.

------< O >------

After lunch, Bill headed home to do some home project (probably watching basketball) while Helen, Samantha and I decided to hit the mall for to see if they could augment my clothing supply. I think that they just wanted some girl time.

We were in one of the larger department stores looking at girl’s clothing. Samantha had me hold up a top to get an idea how it would look on me when a sales girl appeared.

“Ooh…,” she commented, “that looks lovely with your daughter’s hair color.”

That’s three.

------< O >------

Eventually, Helen headed for home. As she hugged Samantha goodbye, she said , with a grin: “Bye, Mommy.”

Samantha was not amused but I thought it was funny.

On the way home, I talked Samantha into stopping at the grocery store. While we were in the checkout line, I remembered something I forgot to get just as the checker got to our small pile of stuff.

“Go ahead, dear,” the checker told me, “I’ll just chat with your mother for a few minutes if you hurry.”

That’s four.

“She’s not my daughter,” Samantha corrected the checker. “She’s my young cousin.”

“My goodness,” the checker exclaimed. “She looks a lot like you.”

------< O >------

We’ve been home now for a couple of hours. I haven’t seen Samantha since we got home. She had stomped off to her room and left me to deal with stowing our purchases. I fixed myself a snack for dinner, but Samantha never came out of her room.

I think that she’s taking the mother mistake too hard.

I am pondering going to bed early or just staying up to watch some TV when Samantha finally surfaces. She looks troubled.

“What’s up,” I asked her with some concern.

“Everyone thinks I’m your mother,” she states, “I am not your mother. I am not a mother. I don’t want to be a mother. I would have had to be in my mid-teens when you were ‘born’ by the looks of you. Heck, you look half my age.”

She glares at me.

I don’t think that she’s done, so I just wait patiently.

“It’s your fault,” she huffs at me. “I don’t think that I should be seen in public with you.”

Okay… so the problem appears to be that I am somehow making her life difficult. Apparently she is still somewhat self-centered.

“What’s wrong with being perceived as a mother?” I enquire.

“Mothers have to be responsible,” she informs me. “Mothers can’t be themselves. Mothers have to watch after snot-nosed kids 24/7. Mothers usually have a father around who needs to be taken care of as well. Mothers are servants.”

Well, she doesn’t seem to have much an opinion of motherhood.

“So what’s wrong with be perceived as one of them?” I ask.

“I’m not one of those people,” she says. “I don’t want to be one of those people. I want to be free to do whatever I want whenever I want. Making commitments gets in the way of that.”

“Why do you think that some women do motherhood and wouldn’t trade it for anything?” I ask her.

“I can’t figure it out,” she admits. “They don’t realize what they are missing.”

Where did we go wrong, I ask myself? Samantha just doesn’t get it.

“Maybe,” I suggest, “it’s you who doesn’t realize what you are missing. You might start by trying to look at it through their eyes. Take the time to try to understand them. You have two sisters-in-law who have chosen to center their lives on their families and a third one who probably will soon. You might want to take the time figure out why.”

Sarah just gives an unbelieving grunt in reply.

“Well,” I add with a smile, “being my mother shouldn’t be too bad. After all, I’ve had sixty years of life experience. I can pretty well take care of myself. All you’ll have to do is act like you’re in charge. That’ll be a lot different than raising a kid from scratch. I think you should stop fighting it and play the part.”

“We’ll see,” she huffs without commitment.

To Be Continued...

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Comments

She so doesnt understand

Sarah so doesn't understand motherhood/parental life. Yes we live for our children but we still live for ourselves, as we try to make individuals who are better than we are. As someone who has lived both rolls of father and mother, I am so jealous of the gift Sarah is being given and the chance at reliving life Jeri is given to be her true self.

No responsibility

Jamie Lee's picture

Samantha isn't really mad because her dad is now a thirteen year old girl, she's mad because now she has to be responsible for another person. And she isn't ready to give up her own life, her own do what she wants.

Her attitude about motherhood is skewed because of her anger. Maybe one day, when she's holding her newly born child, she finally understand her error.

Others have feelings too.