“Pink is for girls,” ew.

“Here you go love, a little something for the baby,” an elderly voice says. Turning, I am handed a brightly coloured package. I grin, an animalistic part of me takes it greedily, ripping apart the wrapping. A bright pink tutu glares at me, mocking me with its unruly netting.

“It’s… very pink,” I say. A kind smile plasters over my face, my insides revolting at the colour.

“Of course, it’s a girl after all. One day she will make a lovely little dancer.”

“Pink’s just not my colour… but I’m sure she will love it!” I reply.

“Pink is for girls, blue for boys,” he sternly says.

“Well, I’m not a fan of pink.”

“Well that’s because you’re older, pink represents youth, innocence, the cheeks of a blushing bride.” I grit my teeth harder.

“Thank you,” I barely manage as I walk away.



One Comment Add yours

  1. malinivenkat says:

    Perfectly written – ew indeed!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s