Saturday's Storyteller: "Sherman, how many times have I told you not to DO that?"

by Belinda Roddie

Sherman, how many times have I told you not to do that? It's a rhetorical question, kid. Sixteen. Sixteen times over the past two months. And yet you won't listen.

I know you feel your most comfortable when you do this, but you know I don't like explaining it to the neighbors. They see you from their windows, you know. Singing along to your iPod as you wash the dishes or cook, sashaying your hips while you wear that frilly floral apron. My apron.

I just might gain twenty pounds so you can't fit into my dresses anymore. I'll buy clothes that are too big for you, so you can't wear them. I'll throw away all my good jewelry so you don't steal my pearls anymore.

You remember Harriet, your next door neighbor? She goes by Harry now. It's awful. She's starting to grow stubble. She smokes. She drinks! She looks more masculine than your own father. And now you're going in the exact opposite direction. Like an uncooperative boomerang.

I don't know what to do with you, Sherman. Sixteen times. Sixteen times I told you not to walk in those high heels and wear my skirts. That's it. I'm taking them away and locking them up. Only I will know where the key is. The only way you're going to learn to be a man is if you act like one. The word's in your own name. Sherman. Sher-man.

And don't try taking your sister's skirts, either! You know she wouldn't be okay with it!

...She is okay with it? I'll have to have a chat with her.

...You want to be called Charlotte?

This week's prompt was provided by Arden Kilzer.