So Reese, who claims to be resisting puberty and any kind of sexual talk, is suddenly very interested in Bob’s writing. Bob’s a sort of experimental autobiographer, whose writing includes very graphic illustrations of gay sex. The other night Reese and I were doing some research online for his science project, and I noticed that he was searching for articles about Bob’s books. I re-focused him on the project, but later that night he found a copy of one of Bob’s steamier novels and had only read one paragraph by the time I pulled the book from his shocked gaze, but too late.
“My dad’s a pervert,” he said.
“Reese, your dad’s not a pervert. A pervert is someone who hurts other people with his sexual interests. Bob’s a very well-respected writer who writes about adult sex. You’re much too young to be reading about that, and if you’d like to read something by him that’s appropriate for someone your age, let’s read one of his short stories together.”
And back and forth we tussled. I think that his curiosity about and fear of his own sexuality are being expressed through this sudden interest in Bob’s writing.
Later that night Reese suddenly asked Chris, “Chris, is your dad a transgender? Why did he have a sex change?”
Chris explained the details of his dad’s sexual re-assignment, and when asked by Reese about how it felt to have one’s father change gender, Chris replied, “Well, do you know anyone from school who reads Bob’s books?”
“Yes, Mr. _______.”
“Does that embarrass you? We’re all embarrassed by our parents, how do you think I felt?”
“IÂ wouldn’t be embarrassed if my dad were transgendered!” in a shocked voice.
Anyway, here are some pictures that Reese took of my dinner last night. He posed us all to conform to his idea of how we should be represented:
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