Stag: a Story
“my own mother said at dinner. The dance was just a few days away now and had invaded dinner too. “We talked about how we can’t wait to see you boys all dressed up in your suits. She’s going to take pictures. Oliver, I told her you’d kill me if I take pictures, but she says I should—as mothers we deserve to take pictures.”
I felt sideswiped. Pictures? Posing? I hadn’t anticipated any of this.
“Oliver?”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Ollie,” my father said, “let your mother take pictures. It’ll only tak...e up a minute.”
“You can’t. No one else’s moms are going.”
“All of the other mothers are going.
I’m not going to follow you into the dance, I just want to see you and your friends all dressed up.”
“No. No, you have to just drop me off and leave.”
“Ollie, do I embarrass you that much? I’m not going to dress as a clown, for heaven’s sake.”
I finished my dinner in silence. I could feel my eyes were wide, frozen, too big to close.
* As evening on Saturday approached, my mother reminded me again and again, with increasing urgency, that I needed to start putting on my suit.MoreLess
I felt sideswiped. Pictures? Posing? I hadn’t anticipated any of this.
“Oliver?”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Ollie,” my father said, “let your mother take pictures. It’ll only tak...e up a minute.”
“You can’t. No one else’s moms are going.”
“All of the other mothers are going.
I’m not going to follow you into the dance, I just want to see you and your friends all dressed up.”
“No. No, you have to just drop me off and leave.”
“Ollie, do I embarrass you that much? I’m not going to dress as a clown, for heaven’s sake.”
I finished my dinner in silence. I could feel my eyes were wide, frozen, too big to close.
* As evening on Saturday approached, my mother reminded me again and again, with increasing urgency, that I needed to start putting on my suit.MoreLess
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