I've been having a think about this story.
My reply in #1 bothered me when I wrote it and still does.
Look at the opening picture. Small boy, shorts, pink dress.
No, Small stocky boy. Quite thick set. Rolled up sleeves, skull and cross bones logo, grey socks and dirty sport shoes.
Try to imagine the rest of that boy. The sort of boy being protrayed here. He's a boys boy. He's the sort of boy who stand up for himself, argues with his pals about who hit the ball farthest.
That dress isn't a dress at all. It's a flimsey piece of nylon gauze.
5 year old boys are not all stocky. I and I suspect, most boys like us, and most boys generally, are small, quite thin and kinda shy and unsure.
The dress I longed for wasn't a flinsey piece of nylon gauze. It was a proper dress. I didn't want shorts under. I wanted underpants, girl's underpants. I wanted white socks and some black shiney shoes, perhaps with a buckle. I wanted to be feminine, like my friends. I wanted to be allowed to play with my friends without someone telling me, Boys don't play with girls.
That picture is making a statement, This is a normal boy who will one day, grow up into a fine young man, have lots of girl friends, fight for his country and become a famous doctor.
This is a statement saying, OK, our boy is rather odd, but he's otherwise normal and one day we can be proud of him in a way that we are not right now.
I'm not even going to start on the text.
I apologise for my last response and also to any who disagree. I hope you will say you do.
