Tag Archives: lesbian

Orange Is The New Black

This series on Netflix is quite a powerful one. It starts with Piper Chapman going to prison willingly for having transporting drugs with her friend, Alex Vause. This has been quite a while ago and in the meantime, Piper has broken up with Alex and started a new life with a man whom she is now engaged to.

Piper Chapman is based on a real person, most of the characters are too. Piper was an actual inmate and what happens inside is the real deal, though I’m sure lots of it is -at least a bit- romanticised aswell.

The series stars are Taylor Schilling as Chapman, who is very good at putting up a desperate, innocent face. Excellent for a newbie in prisonhood, I gotta say. Further more Laura Prepon, Uzo Aduba (who is effing great! Really, WOW!), Michael Harney (the big, sad looking Droopy dog, who you can’t help wanting to throw a bone at, every now and then, just to comfort him), Lea DeLaria (bloody funny), Kate Mulgrew (again: WOW! Ace play in every way, angry or loving, awardingly stunning), Natasha Lyonne (reminds me a bit of Rizzo from Grease, somehow; big mouth, tiny heart), Yael Stone, Jessica Pimentel, Laverne Cox (Fashion Police inside prison. At least, at first sight), Danielle Brooks, Samira Wiley (sweet bookworm), Nick Sandow and Annie Golden. That last one, who plays Norma, is especially worth mentioning, as she is an important part of the group, but secretly doesn’t speak until…well, when she does. Meanwhile, everybody knows her. You too. You keep seeing her. You don’t notice she doesn’t speak until the moment she does.

The first season shows Piper who is trying to survive prisonhood. As an inmate of a -sort of- light crime, she doesn’t want any trouble, as most new inmates probably would like, but prisonlife simply doesn’t lend itself for that attitude.
Orange Is The New Black shows the viewer that in prison, the law is no longer with you. You’re part of a zoo with the other inmates there to make the rules for you. Make that laws. Telling on others will get you into trouble and there is no protection. I think that’s the most important message this series send out. Why prison is shit.
The first season also shows quite a lot of girl-on-girl-sex. In such a way, it bores quite quickly actually. Like all of them are lesbians, or you become as such, just being bored and think ‘oh, what the heck’. Though I’m sure it was great for the viewers rate somehow, it did get old quite quickly. Or maybe I’m just not lesbian enough, I don’t know 😉

The second season starts with showing what exactly happens when the course of the lawsuit against you, proceeds. And how ill informed you can feel as an inmate when this happens. Given that I insist on not throwing spoilers in here -there’s enough of that on social media anyway- I’ll just state that given how season 1 ends, you as a viewer are also put on the wrong leg in season 2. Excellent, of course, because this is what you want to know. How does it work when you’re in prison? If you’re in the outside world, people, especially government people, are obliged to inform you what they are about to do. It is normal to get answers too. When you’re in trouble already, this changes.
This season has its dull/slow moments, but overall it’s exciting and keeps you on your toes regularly.

The third season, however, is though well acted (never a problem there, to be honest) not all that ‘hot’.
And I don’t mean the sex. There’s loads of slow moments in it. Red and Healy having a moment is sweet and does make it possible to slow down a bit without getting bored, but especially things between Piper and Alex, throughout the series, is very ‘Ross & Rachel’ at times. Utterly boring. They’re stuck with each other and they hate it, but being in prison kind of makes it impossible NOT to run into each other and get either mad with rage or frustrated with wanting to talk it over. You already saw Friends, you don’t need that kind of reliving.

The fourth season is picking up the pieces that were loose balls, thankfully.
Not a dull moment in that one.
It does, however, lack the angry, personal emotions that were still there in season 1 and 2. Season 3 ended in a way that made Piper look tough for a change, but for the fourth season they apparently had a change of heart. It’s also a bit weird to see the cast in a different shape. Like they’ve ages enormously in just 5 minutes. Boo suddenly dropped quite some weight and girls that seemed harsh and inhumane, suddenly soften up. It helps that an inmate who was away for some time, returns and makes jokes about it, as it really is undeniable.
I’ll give them that.
Then again, the season has a storyline that will give you the shivers at times. It shows the inmates as groups, perhaps that’s why on personal level, they’re suddenly less agressive towards newbies.
It also shows what happens when budget cuts happen in prison. That it means less care and less human acting against prisoners. And that it’s never the ‘right one’ to suffer from these consequences. That warders play by their own rules if they see fit and that their opinion about prisoners is quite different from what these prisoners are used to with Caputo, the director.
Who has grown up by now. Well, in ways of caring. Before, he actually had time to jerk off, now he is happy if he can spend about 5 minutes behind his desk to clear up the mess that’s been left by his new warders.
In season 1 there’s already a warder that wasn’t quite clean, in season 4 it really gets very ugly.

All seasons have an excellent cliffhanger to them, but I personally most liked the one presented in season 3. Because it makes you feel happy along with them.

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Posted by on June 21, 2016 in Opinion, series, Uncategorized


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Growing up in a gay household

No, not myself. In a way I wish I was, so I knew what I was talking about.
A relative of mine was, however. Unfortunately he passed away, before I was able to ask him anything about that.

His mothers weren’t just lesbians, they were pioneers at the time. It was the eighties. Not everyone LIKED the idea of people being different back then. One of the grandmothers, for instance. As soon as she heard about the pregnancy, she said ‘don’t expect me to babysit’, basically telling them they didn’t have her blessing.
The kid never really felt appreciated by this grandmother as a result of that, which I, quite frankly, understand.

In my old neighbourhood, there was a lesbian couple with children. As a child, my mother always claimed I never asked that many questions about it. Indeed, I can’t remember thinking, while entering their premises, ‘gee, this is odd’. They had four children in total: two girls, a boy my friends and me played with sometimes and there was a fourth one on the way. I did know two mothers weren’t so standard, but I also knew this was simply possible. My mother had explained to me that in a case like that, women just borrowed sperm from someone. Which made my knowledge of ‘borrowing’ a bit peculiar, because weren’t you supposed to return things you borrowed?
But anyway.
There I was, having lemonade and cookies in this house, enjoying that and asking what everyone was called. I do remember thinking I didn’t like the names that much, and years after, hearing those names in Dutch gay households more often. I won’t mention the names as it could be coincidental and I don’t want to give out a Katie Hopkins-like reputation to anyone. And the other gay households I’m talking about were when I worked in children’s daycare, so I didn’t actually see what was going on inside houses. If it was different in any way, if the children acted differently from children in more standard households, for instance.
Shortly after, we went out to play again, so that was it, really.

I was happy to find out about this blog on tumblr instead, written by Jesse Toksvig-Stewart, one of the children of Sandi Toksvig. In their case I suppose their state of being was even more special. Not only were they unique in having two Moms, but also one of the mothers being famous. It does make it extra special. As if you not only have triplets in your household, but they’re identical aswell. Something like that. And still, if it’s the standard you grow up with, it tends to become very normal. It should be. It should be normal as having twins in the house. Special, but good.

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Posted by on August 2, 2015 in Opinion


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Frankies’ Fifteenth

Frankie is a fourteen year old with a funny relationship to her boyfriend George (he doesn’t want anyone to know they’re dating), and an even more weird friendship to her best pal Dabby and a history of not fitting in with her peers altogether.
Then one night, Frankie has a dream. About their gymteacher….
Mrs Pilcher.
Now what?

Fragment of Frankies’ Fifteenth:

” Mathematics class was about to get started.

Frankies’ fellow pupils were stumbling around for spots that seemed alright enough to hide everything that wasn’t studymaterial-related.

A walkman, discman, headsets big and small, chewing gums in all colors, shapes and tastes of the rainbow, nail polish, hair brushes and elastic bands, all shades of velvet tip pens you weren’t supposed to use and other things that weren’t to be exposed until lunch break.

They were badly hidden behind ridiculously big brand backpacks. Without those, you had no point even bringing your beloved belongings to school in the first place. It was the innocent approach of breaking the rules, if you will. Teachers were obliged to object to them, so hiding was the best way to go. The Mathematical teacher, bearded Mr Fennel, was quite easy in approach.

He always pretended he didn’t see it. He didn’t understand what the fuzz was all about, nor did he care. Mr Fennel liked his students and as long as they did their very best, he wasn’t prone to do what was expected.

Frankie Thompson and Dabby Leavy had long found their place on the side. A perfect spot, as it had a set of tables pretty much glued to the wall. Or actually the chairs were. They could check everyone coming in and going out, as if it were a pub and they were about to order a drink they weren’t supposed to have.

The spot had the lovely possibility of leaning back against the wall with their chairs and not be bothered to keep a balance, because of it. Ideal.

Frankie had been growing so fast the past time, it felt quite liberating to her feet not touching the floor for once.

Dabby usually used the oppertunity to insult someone she fancied. Though it was hard to tell the difference, as Dabby always insulted anyone that came across. Frankie was just happy if it wasn’t herself for a change.

Frankie was really only waiting for the right moment to tell Dabby she wanted to go to the library.

Eagerly waiting for the class to be settled down, as the hours just changed and they had to walk and sit down a new classroom.

Looking at pupils who practically emptied their backpacks with all the stuff they couldn’t find. Holding her breath when it looked like they were concentrated so deeply into their works that no-one would even notice her and Dabby to exist.

Patiently waiting like an animal waits for its prey to sit exactly right, ready to attack. Waiting for the surrounding factors to be exactly right: no wind, no dust, no rivals, just an easy to catch moment. A predator waiting to attack. Trying to be a chameleon, to solve into thin air, becoming one with everyone and everything so its presence is not noted.

One could wonder what the fuzz was all about concerning the library in the first place: it were just books, nothing special, right?

But there Frankie was, sweating, trying to fix her skirt in such a way it didn’t look like she was there. Getting rid of every wrinkle in the fabric. Every crumble that could be a spot. Checking her nails, if they were in order. Neatly cut and clean, not long and creepy, like a dead finger or something. She had long and thin fingers, but enough nerves to wind up to make the existence of valium a blessing in the end. She wasn’t allowed any, of course, but her sister sometimes threatened to pour it in her drink when Frankie was acting up again.

‘Shut up or I will put Mom’s valium in your tea!’ but since Julia wasn’t here, Frankie felt she could bite her nails the way she liked. Besides, Julia also, would have no idea what it was Frankie got so worked up about. Why would she? Frankie never shared her secrets with anyone at home. Not since Terry had revealed Julia’s favorite type of underwear during dinner. And not in a subtle way either.”

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Posted by on April 7, 2015 in Projects, Promoting


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Project: holebi gezinnen kinderverhalen / Project: gay families children’s stories

Het volgende verhaal maakt deel uit van een project(je) waar ik mee bezig ben. Kinderverhalen voor kinderen die uit anders dan de typisch samengestelde (vader, moeder, kind) gezinnen voortkomen.
Twee moeders, twee vaders, twee moeders EN twee vaders, twee oma’s, twee opa’s, etc. Dit zal gestaag gaan omdat ik kinderen die uit zulke gezinnen komen wil vragen om me daar wat bij te helpen.
Het gaat me er hierbij niet om de nadruk te leggen op het anders zijn. Wel om dit als verhaal zodanig te vertellen dat ook kinderen met die achtergronden zich voor de verandering eens thuis voelen in een verhaal.
Hun beleving, hun wereld.
Zelf heb ik twee getrouwde schoonzussen die inmiddels oma zijn. Dit kind is nu nog te jong om diens ervaringen daarbij te gebruiken.
Het is mijn bedoeling kleuter- en opgroeiende kinderverhalen te schrijven die makkelijk toegankelijk zijn. Herkenbare situaties die elke ouder bekend voor zullen komen, maar met de achtergrond van een gezin die net even wat anders is dan ‘standaard’.


‘Mamma, is het al lente?’ vroeg Juul, roepend vanuit haar bed. Hannah zat naast haar in haar eigen bed en had net al gezegd dat dat niet zo was.

‘Nee schat, nog een paar weken!’ riep mamma terug.

‘Zie je nou wel!’ siste Hannah beledigd. Het was ook altijd hetzelfde. Juul geloofde haar nooit. Hannah vond dat nooit zo leuk.

‘Gaan jullie je maar aankleden en maak Sam maar vast wakker’, riep de andere stem.

‘Ja mamma’, riep Hannah terug, terwijl ze de lakens op haar bed opensloeg en zuchtend haar sokken aantrok.

‘Wat nou?’ vroeg Juul geërgerd.

‘Gewoon, ik vind je stom!’ antwoordde Hannah simpel. Juul keek gekwetst.

‘Je vroeg aan mij ook al of het lente was, dan zeg ik nee en dat is ook zo, maar mij geloof je niet. Dat vind ik niet eerlijk’. Hannah had haar sokken aangetrokken. Mooie blauwe, met madeliefjes erop.

‘Wat een gekibbel hier, wat is er aan de hand?’

‘Juul is stom’, mokte Hannah tegen mamma, die haar hoofd om de hoek van de deur had gestoken. Haar korte blonde haar viel langs haar oor.

‘Nou zeg, het is wel je zusje hoor’, mamma vond het nooit leuk als Hannah en Juul elkaar ‘stom’ noemden.

‘Maar ze had aan mij ook al gevraagd of het al lente was, en ik HAD al nee gezegd! En dan gaat ze het toch nog vragen! Alsof wat ik zeg niet waar is. Dat vind ik niet leuk!’ zei Hannah verontwaardigd. Mamma rolde met haar ogen, ze begreep het. Juul vroeg het liefst alles twintig keer na. Vaak luisterde ze niet eens naar het antwoord. Of vergat ze dat meteen weer.

‘Tja, Juul, als je het al gevraagd hebt, hoef je het natuurlijk niet nog een keer te vragen’, gaf mamma Hannah gelijk.

‘Ik had het niet zo goed verstaan, geloof ik’, zei Juul beteuterd, die het niet eerlijk vond dat Hannah nu gelijk kreeg in haar boos zijn.

‘Mamma, ben ik stom?’ vroeg Juul nu dus bedrukt.

‘Ja!’ riep Hannah boos, die zich intussen van top tot teen keurig aan had gekleed.

‘Nou Hannah, ga jij maar even naar beneden om alvast te ontbijten dan, als je Juul zo stom vindt. Mammie is er al, die staat brood te roosteren’.

Hannah liep al richting deur.

‘Krijg ik nog een knuffel, of ben ik ook stom?’ vroeg mamma nog. Hannah omhelsde haar met een grote glimlach.

‘Nee! Jij bent lief!’

‘Grote meid’ mamma kuste Hannah op haar wang.

‘Ga maar gauw ontbijten’.

The following story is part of a small project I’m working on. Children’s stories for children that come from a less common family (father, mother, child).
Two mothers, two fathers, one parent, two mothers AND two fathers and so on. This won’t be a quick project as I would like the additional comments of children who actually grew up in such families.
To me it’s important that there’s no emphasis on it being different. My goal is merely to tell a story that makes children from such families feel at home in the given storyline, for a change.
Their experience, their world.
Although I do have two married sisters in law who are grandmothers, their grandchild is, at the moment, too small to use as an example for these stories.
It is my goal to write toddler and older children stories that are easy accessable. Normal situations for any parent, and any child, just with a slightly different background than the usual.

Getting up in the morning

‘Mum, is it Spring already?’ Jools asked from her bedside. Hannah was sitting next to her in her own bed and had already told her it was not.

‘No sweetie, not until a couple of weeks!’ Mum yelled back.

‘See, I was right!’ Hannah hissed at Jools, cross. It was the same old song. Jools never believed her. Hannah never liked that much.

‘Go get dressed the two of you and wake Sam’ the voice yelled instructively.

‘Yes mum’, Hannah pushed away her blankets and sat up straight in her bed. Annoyed, she started to pull on her socks. She sighed with fury.

‘Now what?!’ Jools asked, annoyed.

‘Simply that I think you’re stupid!’ Hannah answered. Jools looked hurt.

‘You asked me too if it was Spring already. I said no and that’s true but you don’t believe me. That’s not fair’ Hannah had pulled on both of her socks now. They were blue and had daisies on them.

‘What’s happening here?’

‘Jools is stupid’, Hannah complained to Mum, who just peeked around the corner of the bedroom door. Her short blonde hairs fell just over her ears.

‘Oi, that’s your sister you’re talking about, you know?’ Mum never liked it when they referred to each other as ‘stupid’.

‘But she had already asked me if it was Spring in a few weeks and I ALREADY said ‘no’. Then she goes and asks it again. Like it’s not true what I said. I don’t like that!’ Hannah said sulking. Mum rolled her eyes, she understood. Jools asked everything about 20 times. And hardly listened to the answer, or immediately forgot about it again.

‘Well Jools, if you’ve asked, it is not necessary to ask it again’, Mum pleaded in favour or Hannah.

‘I don’t think I heard it all that well’, Jools sadly answered.

‘Mum, am I stupid?’ Jools asked.

‘Yes!’ Hannah answered angrily, who was by now perfectly dressed from top to toe.

‘Well Hannah, you go downstairs to Mommee then, if you think Jools is that stupid. She’s making toast at the moment’, Mum ordered.

Hannah marched in the direction of the door.

‘Do I get a hug or am I stupid, too?’ Mum asked. Hannah hugged Mum with a bright smile,

‘No, you’re sweet!’

‘That’s my big girl’, Mum kissed Hannah on the cheek.

‘Now go and have some breakfast’.


De vriendjes en vriendinnetjes van Warre

“Kom je bij mij spelen?” vraagt Camille aan Warre. Ze staan op het schoolplein bij de zandbak, net klaar met school.

“Ja hoor, dat moet ik dan wel even aan mijn mamma vragen”, zegt Warre. Hij loopt op zijn moeder toe.

“Mamma, mag ik bij Camille spelen?” vraagt Warre

“Natuurlijk schat”, zegt mamma. Samen lopen ze naar Camille en haar pappa. Mamma geeft Warre een kus en zwaait hem uit, als hij bij de pappa van Camille achterop het stoeltje mag. Camille zit voorop.

Eenmaal bij Camille thuis krijgen ze thee met een lekker koekje, die de pappa van Camille op een groot dienblad op een klein tafeltje neerzet. Dat tafeltje staat in de speelhoek van Camille. Warre en Camille eten vrolijk giechelend de koekjes op en zingen liedjes na die ze vandaag op school geleerd hebben.

“Zullen we met de poppen spelen?” vraagt Camille aan Warre als het lekkers op is. Warre knikt, dat lijkt hem leuk. Samen gaan ze naar de kamer van Camille. Haar kamer is helemaal roze, want dat vindt Camille de mooiste kleur die er is.

“Nou ben jij pappa en ik pappie”, zegt Camille. Warre schudt zijn hoofd.

“Jij bent mammie en ik ben mamma”,zegt hij. Nu schudt Camille haar hoofd.

“Dat wil ik niet! Ik wil pappie zijn en dan moet jij pappa zijn!” dat vindt Warre toch echt niet leuk.

“Misschien wil jij mammie zijn en dat ik dan pappie ben?” probeert Warre. Dat klinkt beter, vindt Camille. Dat klinkt tenminste een beetje hetzelfde.

“Nu ga ik koken, lekker stamppot met aardbeien en brood met kaas”, zegt Warre. Wat een bijzonder gerecht! Camille eet alles op wat Warre serveert.

“Nu ga ik soep maken met doperwten, vermicelli en kip”, zegt Camille plechtig. Nu is het Warre’s beurt om alles op te eten. Dan ziet Warre in een hoekje wat moois staan. Het zijn rolschaatsen.

“Zullen we daar nu mee spelen?” vraagt Warre glunderend. Camille kijkt op. Ja, dat lijkt haar ook heel leuk.

Dus trekken ze de rolschaatsen aan. Wel met arm- en kniebeschermers, anders doet het pijn bij vallen. Daar gaan ze, lekker rolschaatsen. Zowel binnen en buiten.

Daarna gaan ze knutselen. Camille heeft veel mooi gekleurd papier. Ze vouwen er cirkels van en plakken die aan elkaar. Zo krijgen ze een prachtig lange ketting.

‘Voor pappie!’ roept Camille. Warre vindt het best. Hij vond het toch leuker om te maken, dan dat hij het zelf wil dragen.

Als het tijd is, komt mamma Warre halen. Camille en Warre geven elkaar een dikke knuffel, en zo nemen ze afscheid.

“Mamma, waarom heeft Camille eigenlijk een pappa en een pappie?” vraagt Warre als ze aan tafel zitten om te eten met mammie.

“Ik denk om dezelfde reden dat jij mij en mamma hebt en je nichtje Nele een pappa en een mamma”, zegt mammie dan. Dat snapt Warre niet helemaal.

“Maar iedereen heeft toch twee moeders?” vraagt hij verbaasd. Mamma en mammie kijken elkaar aan en moeten glimlachen.

“Nee lieverd, niet alle kinderen hebben twee moeders. De meeste kinderen hebben een mamma en een pappa. Sommige kinderen hebben twee mamma’s of twee pappa’s. Er zijn ook kinderen die en twee pappa’s en twee mamma’s hebben. En ook heb je kinderen die alleen een pappa of een mamma hebben”, leggen ze uit. Warre hoort het allemaal zo en snapt ’t nog niet helemaal.

“Heeft Camille dan helemaal geen mamma of mammie?”vraagt hij dan.

“Ergens misschien wel, maar Camille heeft toch vooral haar pappa en haar pappie”, zegt mamma.

“Heb ik dan ook ergens een pappa?” vraagt Warre.

“Ja lieverd, jij hebt ergens een pappa, dat is oom Harold, weet je nog?” Warre knikt. Nu weet hij het weer. Oom Harold komt zo nu en dan eens langs en brengt vaak iets leuks mee. Soms een nieuw kleurboek, een kaart, een mooie bal, en een keer heeft hij samen met mamma en mammie een mooie nieuwe fiets gekocht, waar Warre nog altijd heel fijn mee fietst.

“O ja!”zegt hij dan.

“Heb ik vriendjes die net als Nele zijn?” vraagt hij dan.

“Natuurlijk schat, heel veel zelfs!” zegt mamma en mammie somt er een paar op.

“Nele, Nathan, Jules, Anne en nog veel meer”, zegt ze tenslotte.

Al die kinderen, dat zijn er heel wat! Daar heeft Warre nooit bij stilgestaan.

Hij gaat bij ze spelen, vraagt zo nu en dan om een glas sap, een koekje of ander lekkers, soms blijft hij ook eten. Maar hij is altijd zo bezig met spelen dat het hem nooit opvalt.

Tenslotte komt oom Harold ook op bezoek, maar die blijft nooit zo lang. Na verloop van tijd moet oom Harold altijd weer naar huis. Al blijft hij soms ook wel logeren omdat hij het zo gezellig vindt.

Warre besluit dat hij het de volgende keer, als hij ergens speelt, eens zal gaan vragen hoe dat zit.

De volgende dag zit hij al de hele dag zo lekker te spelen met zijn vriendje Dries, dat hij aan hem vraagt of hij met hem mee mag naar huis. Hij zal nu meteen eens extra opletten.

Eenmaal bij Dries thuis is het niet veel anders. Dries heeft net zoals hij veel leuke speeltjes, zoals een fietsje, een bal, een mooie helm, heel veel kleurpotloden, stiften en een prachtige knutseldoos, mooie speelkaarten.

Bij de thee krijgen ze een hele mooie beker met plaatjes, een lekker koekje. Dries’ mamma zit erbij.

“Heb jij nog een pappa of nog een mamma?” vraagt hij tenslotte voor de zekerheid.

“Dries heeft nog een pappa”, antwoord zijn mamma, omdat Dries zijn mond nu al vol koek zit, “dat is anders dan bij jou thuis hè?” vraagt Dries’ mamma. Warre knikt.

Dan eet hij zijn koekje op.

“Maar wat doen jouw mamma’s dan?” vraagt Dries nieuwsgierig, “want mijn mamma kookt en doet de was, maar mijn pappa timmert en schildert en repareert alles wat stuk is. Is er bij jullie thuis veel stuk?”

Warre moet even nadenken.

“Mamma wast en mammie kookt meestal. Mammie werkt en repareert ook dingen die stuk zijn, maar dat doet mamma ook weleens. Mamma kan beter timmeren dan mammie. Mammie kan mijn fiets beter maken als die stuk is en mammie doet ook veel in de tuin”, zegt hij dan.

“En als je ziek bent, wie blijft er dan thuis?” vraagt de mamma van Dries aan Warre.

“Mamma!”roept hij vrolijk, “mamma werkt niet dus die blijft dan bij mij”.

Dan is de thee van Warre en Dries op. En hun koekje ook.

“Zullen we buiten gaan fietsen?” vraagt hij aan Dries.

Dries knikt.

Dus gaan ze lekker buiten fietsen.

Charlie’s Friends

‘Are you coming over to play?’ Isabelle asks Charlie. They are on the preschool yard, near the sandbox. School has just gone out.

‘Yes, but I should ask my mother first’, Charlie answers. He walks up to his mother.

‘Ma, can I go out and play with Isabelle?’Charlie asks.

‘Of course, my dear’, Mom answers. Together they walk up to Isabelle and her dad. Mom kisses Charlie goodbye if he has taken place on the back of Isabelle’s dad’s bike. Isabelle is on the front seat.

Once they’re at Isabelles’ home, they have tea and a nice biscuit, served on a tray by Isabelle’s dad on a small table. That table is the play corner of Isabelle.

Charlie and Isabelle eat their biscuits giggling and sing songs they’ve learned at preschool today.

‘Shall we play with the dolls?’ Isabelle asks Charlie when the biscuits have gone. Charlie nods, it seems like a perfectly good idea. They head for Isabelle’s room. Everything in her room is pink. That is because Isabelle considers this to be the most beautiful color available.

‘You are daddy and I’m dadda’ Isabelle says to Charlie. He shakes his head.

‘You are mommy and I’m Ma’ Charlie says to Isabelle. She shakes her head.

‘I don’t want to! You have to be daddy and I’m dadda!’ Charlie really doesn’t like the sound of that.

‘Maybe you can be mommy and I can be daddy?’ Charlie tries. It does sound better, Isabelle agrees. At least that’s a bit similar.

‘Now I’m going to cook. Good mashed potatoes with strawberries and eggs and bits of kale’, Charlie says. That is a very special treat! Isabelle eats everything Charlie serves.

‘Now I’m going to make soup with peas, noodles and chicken’, Isabelle states. Now it’s Charlies turn to eat everything.

Then Charlie sees something in a corner of Isabelle’s room that he likes to play with. Her rollerskates!

‘Shall we do that next?’ Charlie says, unable to even stop thinking about them now. Isabelle agrees on the idea of rollerskating.

So, on with the rollerskates. Then on with the pads for knees, elbow and wrists so falling won’t be too painfull.

There they go, both inside the house and in the yard. Rollerskating.

After that, handicrafts. Isabelle has lots of lovely colored papers. The fabric cirkels of those by sticking them to each other. That way it becomes a lovely and huge necklace.

‘For daddy!’ Isabelle says. Charlie is OK with that, he rather makes it then wear it anyway.

When it’s time to go home, Ma comes to collect Charlie. Isabelle and Charlie share a big hug for goodbyes.

‘Ma, why does Isabelle have a daddy and a dadda?’ Charlie asks when they’re having supper at the table with mommy.

‘I think for the same reason you have me and Ma and your cousin Ella has a mother and a father’ mommy explains. Charlie doesn’t fully understand.

‘But everyone has two mothers, no?’ Charlie asks surprised.

Now Ma and mommy are smiling.

‘No, darling, not everyone has two mommies. Most children have a mommy and a daddy, some children have two mommies, or two daddies, or both two mommies and two daddies and some children only have a mother or a father’, they explain. Charlie doesn’t fully understand quite yet.

‘So Isabelle doesn’t have a mommy at all?’ he asks.

‘Maybe somewhere she has, but mostly Isabelle has her daddy and her dadda’, mommy explains.

‘Do I have a dad somewhere then?’ Charlie asks.

‘Yes, honey, you do. That’s uncle Harold, remember?’ Charlie nods. Uncle Harold comes by every now and then and brings very nice gifts many times. Sometimes it’s a coloring book, or a nice card, a shiny ball to play with, and not too long ago he and mommy and Ma went to the store and bought him a bike. He still enjoys riding that bike a lot.

‘Oh yes’, he remembers.

‘Do I have friends that are like Ella?’ he then asks.

‘Oh yes, sweetie, quite a lot!’ Ma and mommy name a few.

‘Ella, Frank, Jacob, Imogen’, they sum up.

All of those, that’s quite some! Charlie has never thought of it much.

He plays at their house, sometimes asks for a drink or a biscuit, sometimes he stays for supper. But he is always occupied with playing with his friends. Too much to notice anything different.

After all uncle Harold comes by too, but he never stays. After some time, uncle Harold always goes back home. Although sometimes he does spend the night if it has become too late to go home.

Charlie decides to pay more attention, the next time he plays over at someone else’s place. He is curious now.

The next day Charlie has a wonderful time playing with Jacob. Charlie decides he wants to come home with Jacob. Also, he wants to see what’s so different now.

At Jacob’s house, it’s not much different. Jacob has many lovely toys, just like himself. A bike, a ball, a nice helmet, a big load of colored pencils and felted pens to draw with, a handicrafts box and so on.

They’re served tea in very lovely mugs and a very sweet biscuit. Jacob’s mom is sitting along with them.

‘Do you have another mommy or do you have a daddy?’ Charlie asks, just to be sure.

‘Jacob has a daddy’, his mother answers for him, as Jacob just took a bite from his biscuit and therefor cannot say anything, ‘this is different from how it is at your home, isn’t it?’ Jacob’s mother asks. Charlie nods.

Then he eats his biscuit.

‘But what do your mommies do then?’ Jacob asks curiously, ‘my mommy cooks and washes, but my daddy fixes everything that’s broken. Do you have a lot of things that are still broken?’

Charlie needs a moment to think.

‘Ma washes and mommy usually cooks. Mommy works and repairs stuff but Ma does this too sometimes. Ma is better at hammering than mommy. Mommy is better at fixing my bike when it’s broken and she does the work in the garden’ Charlie sums up.

‘And when you’re ill, who stays home to care for you?’ Jacob’s mother asks.

‘Ma! She doesn’t work, so Ma stays with me’ Charlie says with a radiant smile.

Then Charlie’s and Jacob’s tea is gone. So are their biscuits.

‘Shall we go riding the bike?’ Jacob proposes.

‘Yes!’ Charlie agrees.

So they go out and ride the bike.


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Posted by on March 9, 2015 in Childrens story, Projects


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