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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #2230547
My early life...
Snob!
That's what my parents always called me with a smirk
But I wasn't
I was just different

The highlight of my week wasn't watching Knight Rider like the other boys
It was Wonder Woman
Imagining myself wearing her gold tiara and bracelets
Her lasso of truth
Spinning round and saving the world
Then going back to being normal Diana Prince

My older brother bought me Action Man
And all his accessories
But as I soon found out to be the case
War is boring
My hunky hero opting instead to star in fashion shows
With Barbie and Sindy
Wearing their tight fitting dresses held together at the back with sellotape
To keep his dignity
His khaki jeep
pimped up
Now the ultimate accessory to drive around town

My older sister used to collect novelty perfume bottles
Mainly from Avon
I can remember the one shaped like a white poodle with a tartan scarf round its neck
you twisted it's head off to get to the scent
I crept into her room every night to dab some behind my ears
As you do
And sprinkled some on my pillow
I don't think she ever realised that within a couple of weeks the fragrance had been swapped for tap water

When her Jackie magazine came through the door I was always first to it
Dear sister upstairs, still snoring
I'd flick through the pages
Staring at celebrities from the day
Always stopping to read the Cathy and Claire problem page
Craftily I'd tuck it back inside the morning paper afterwards
Nobody guessing my little guilty pleasure

In the playground
The boys would play Batman and Robin
Quarrelling over who would play which hero, which villain
I was always Catwoman
Imaging myself as the statuesque Julie Newmar
Or the purrfect Miss Eartha Kitt

There was one boy that always called me "pixie eared gayo"
I just thought it was because my ears were a bit pointed
I told my Dad what my new nickname was after a few months
The very next morning he walked me to school
Took the boy aside
And I never heard that name again

I think it was then that my parents also realised I was different

And as for the playground bully?
The last time I saw him
He was tottering down Canal Street, Manchester
In fabulous high heels

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2230547-Diana-Prince-Forever