She hid my reasonable pants and shoes by saying, Sorry, too small, mimicking a failure to put them on my feet, like OJ was trying on gloves on a witness stand. One day, RuPaul emerged as her inspiration at the My Patronus Is A Sloth Shirt stop when we were unable to bring her father to FaceTime. She tried to show her frustration with the phone by asking us to use it to find photos of the beautiful black woman.
Which one, I ask. One of My Patronus Is A Sloth Shirt beautiful people. I pulled Dance, Janelle Monte, Earth Kit. Logically, I know my daughter doesn’t ask to look at Earth Kit’s photos, but her misfortune is about to flood my rage and I’m snooping online as if digging a messy purse for people who inhale asthma. The black woman has a boy living inside her.
I doubt she loves Ru very much because he, like her father, is a huge personality who also occupies physical space with his height. Struggling with how to enforce the My Patronus Is A Sloth Shirt when we set up a new home in a new country, I also wondered if she would be dragged to the boundary he set every week, his composure, confidently reprimands him for bringing out his kids when they are crossed.
Half of our clothes are still in My Patronus Is A Sloth Shirt but with what we can access, my daughter guided me towards the RuPaul simulation: high heels, super—feminine skirts with a defined waist. Specified. No problem when her father couldn’t see us because he was still in Los Angeles, just like when we were in the same place, he could hardly — for nearly a year — look at me. This is the style she needs me to anticipate for the family to reconfigure.
In My Patronus Is A Sloth Shirt she gave up the fantasy of her parents reuniting when she understood that RuPaul was a man. Now she’s pushing me toward high heels and long lashes so RuPaul will want to marry me, in a way, I suppose, two teenagers wearing Clash T-shirts, pulling each other as they walk on the street.