A Fantasy: Part Three free porn video

"A Fantasy" and all its parts are a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. It is a copyrighted work of Caitlin Rose. It may be archived at any web site that does not charge a fee for access, as long as author credit is given and the work is not abridged or changed. A Fantasy: Part 3 By Caitlin Rose "What's a cold wave, Mom?" "It's a permanent wave that works without that electric heating machine." "Do I really need one?" "Well, it will make your hair easier to care for, as it grows out." "But it sounds like it will make me have curls all the time, even on days when I don't want them." "It is not that bad. Miss Ruth likes you. She won't do anything to make you look silly." "When is the appointment for?" "It's for tomorrow afternoon. That will give you almost a week to get used to working with your new look, before your dressy tea party." "Can't I just set my hair when I want curls?" "Look, you missed the opportunity to get a haircut when I offered it to you. You came home earlier today with your hair a total mess, and it wasn't the first time. You're getting a nice curly perm tomorrow, and that's it." I knew it was useless to argue any further with Mom. I still had two hours before bedtime so I decided to work on the flying model kit I had bought the week before. Working with the balsa wood and pins was relaxing. It got my mind off my hair. Everything was fine until I came to the step where I had to glue in 4 wing ribs. As soon as I opened the tube of glue, the smell hit me. I usually like the smell of airplane glue. This time it just reminded me of nail polish. Now that smell made think about looking like a girl, and getting teased for it. I checked the time and found it was bedtime anyway. I finished the glue joint, and put the model away, except for the wing. That stayed on my desk, pinned to the cardboard. I looked at my hair in the mirror. The spray had held it just as I had arranged it. It looked too nice to mess up. I put on my Slumber Cap, my PJs, and went to bed. I slept late the next morning. Mom didn't wake me either. When I finally got up, it was almost ten. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, replaced the Slumber Cap on my head with a shower cap and showered. I began to get dressed. I suddenly remembered that sometime today, I would be getting a permanent wave. I still didn't know what that actually meant, but I was sure it meant that I would look more like a girl by dinner, than I looked now. "Robbie, Good Morning. I heard you showering. Did you wash your hair?" "No Mom, I wore a cap. But why are you asking." "It's okay. I was going to ask you not to shampoo anyway. Miss Ruth will probably want to shampoo your hair before the perm anyway. I put out some clothes for you, on your desk chair." I walked over to the chair. I had an idea what I would find. Mom had put out a whole outfit. I had to admit, it looked about right for a hot July day. There was pair of girl's panties. They were white and very light. There was an orange shell top, a pair of light green shorts, green socks and white sneakers. It all looked much cooler to wear than my jeans and a tee shirt, but there was no doubt about it. It was a girl's outfit. I put on all the clothes. Panties were still new to me. I found them to be so much smoother and more comfortable than my boy shorts. I had worn the other things before. The neck of the shell seemed to be made for going on, over a hairdo. When I finished dressing, I took a good look at my hair. It looked very girlish. The left side had gotten a little flattened and pushed more forward as I had slept. I was able to push it back into place, but it just sprung forward when I let it go. I wasn't sure if it would help, but I decided to try pinning my hair into place with a bobby pin. I found a spot where I could hold my hair with just one finger, and it looked right. I put a bobby pin into my hair, right where I had my finger. It worked. I added a bit more spray, mostly on that side. I looked in the mirror one last time. I knew that if any the guys from school saw me with a bobby pin in my hair, I'd never hear the end of it. Hell, who was I kidding? The clothes I was wearing were a death sentence for an eight year old boy, as it was. "Robbie, you look so nice. I may never let you wear jeans again." "Mom, NO! I don't want to look like a girl all the time." "You don't have to shout. I was only joking. I don't expect you to dress like this all the time. But I'm so happy that you do it when I ask." "I'm not sure it's such a good idea today though, Mom." "Why not?" "Well, I want Betty's mother to know that I like having a nice hairdo, but I also want her to know that I want to be able to look like a boy when she is finished." "On the contrary, if you look neat and well dressed, she will know you care a lot about your appearance, and she'll take extra care to make you proud to show off her work." "Well if you say so...Also, I wanted to work on my bike this morning. I sure can't do it dressed like this. What if I get grease on me?" "Thank you for reminding me. I bought you something. I hope it fits" Mom handed me a package. Inside was a kid size coverall. It almost looked like the same material as my jeans, but it was much thinner. It had a long zipper up the front. "Try it on" I took off my sneakers and got into it. I zipped it up. The legs were okay, but the sleeves were a bit long. It had side pockets, back pockets even a "shirt pocket" It had some racing logos sewed on. It had a big NASCAR emblem on the back. "Mom this is great. It looks just like what pit-crew guys wear." "You can wear it to protect your clothes for working on your bike, painting models, anything like that." I went to the hall mirror to check it out. That's when I saw that it had my name stitched onto the shirt pocket. Spelled "Robbie." In Script. Stitched with pink thread on to the blue cloth. Underneath the name was a checkered flag emblem. I looked like a pit crew mechanic all right...on a girl racing team! "Mom, did my name have to be sewed on in pink? Couldn't it just be white, or orange or something?" "I picked the color because it was bright, and really stood out on the blue background. You can change it if you want." "How could I change it? Don't you need a special sewing machine?" "Not really. I can show you how to embroider it by hand, if you want to learn." "So that's my choice? Wear a coverall with my name in pink script over the pocket, or learn to embroider like a girl!" "Well, you could choose not to wear the coverall at all." Actually, I liked the coverall. All the logos and the big NASCAR emblem looked great. "I guess I'll wear it like this for now. Maybe the pink will fade away in the wash." Mom laughed a little. "I'm sure it will fade out a bit, anyway." I went outside to work on my bike. The front shifter was making noise against the sprocket wheels, and the rear brake was way too loose. I spent about an hour getting everything adjusted. I rode the bike up and down my street 3 or 4 times between adjustments, and then twice around the block when I was finished, just to make sure everything was right. Then I cleaned and oiled the chain, before I put the bike away. I was just finishing up, when Mom called me. "Robbie, Let's have an early lunch and get going. Betty and her mother expect us around 1:00 o'clock." We had tuna sandwiches and iced tea for lunch. While we were eating, Mom noticed my hands. I'd washed them the best I could, but you could still see that I had been working with greasy stuff. "Look at your hands!" "Can I clean them up with lotion, like last time?" "We don't have time to let it soak in overnight. I think I know something that will help. First take off your coverall, put it in the hamper, and put this on." Mom handed me the same frilly apron she had me wear the other day. I really didn't like wearing it, but I put it on. Mom tied the ends of the belt behind me. "Now come over here to the sink." Mom filled the sink with warm, sudsy water. "There is a roasting pan here that needs scrubbing. I think your hands will come clean along with the pan." I worked on that pan with soapy scrub pads for about 20 minutes. I got off almost all the old stains. When I finished, my hands were perfectly clean too, but they felt almost worn out. "Now you see why we use lotion on our hands." Mom poured the fragrant pink stuff on my hands, and watched me rub it in. It was time to leave for Mrs. Thomas' house. Betty answered the door when we arrived. She was wearing a pink blouse and matching pants and sneakers. She even had a pink bow in her hair. "Hello Robbie, hello Mrs. Balter." "Hello Betty. You are all in pink today." "My mother said that since I was going to help with Robbie's perm, I might as well dress right. She says that what I have on is very much like a beautician's uniform." Betty turned to me. "Oh Robbie, you look so nice today. I can't wait to see you with a perm!" Betty hugged me. I started to blush instantly. I gave her a quick hug back. "Come on in, we have everything ready." We followed Betty into the kitchen. Mrs. Thomas was waiting. She was wearing something that looked like a pink oversized shirt over her clothes. "Hello June, it feels like it's been months." "Hi Ruth. It was so nice of you to offer to do this." "Betty and I both think your son is such a doll. I can't wait to make him look even better." They continued to talk while Mrs. Thomas led me toward the sink. Before I knew what was happening, Mrs. Thomas had wrapped a plastic cape around me and tied it around my neck. She made it pretty tight. I stuck a finger in to stretch it out a bit. "Don't loosen it. It has to fit close, so nothing dribbles down your neck." She had me sit on a stool in front the sink and face it. She gently took the bobby pin out of my hair and began to brush through my stiff hairdo. I felt embarrassed when she took out the bobby pin. I knew that it must have been really strange to find one of those on a boy's head, but Mrs. Thomas didn't mention it. She asked me to bend over the sink and she wet my hair with the sprayer. The water was nice and warm. I could feel her pour shampoo on my hair and begin to spread it around. "Betty, will you please shampoo Robbie?" "Sure, Miss Ruth." I think she had practiced that line! Betty worked the shampoo through my hair carefully. Then she rubbed my scalp with her fingers. It felt wonderful. "Okay, now rinse him off" Betty carefully sprayed my head with the sink sprayer. After a few minutes, her mother came over with a towel. "Okay, I think that's just right." She wrapped the towel around my head and led me to the table, and to a chair. There was a mirror standing on the table, so I would be able to see everything being done to my hair. Mrs. Thomas combed all my wet hair straight back form my forehead. With Betty by her side to hand her supplies, she used a rat-tail comb to separate my bangs and comb them down toward my forehead. "We won't perm your bangs. Straight bangs are more versatile, you can wear them however you like." Then she made another small section and Betty handed her an end paper. She folded the paper over the end of the lock of hair. Betty handed her a little pink plastic roller, as thin as a pencil. Now, I certainly wasn't an expert, but I already knew that the smaller the roller, the tighter the curl. This roller was the smallest I had seen yet. "I don't want my curls that tiny." "Don't worry, they won't end up like that." Betty answered. Mrs. Thomas rolled the curler down tight to my scalp. She rolled it tighter than I ever got a roller myself. It was about as tight as my cousin Jen had rolled my hair was, when she was trying to get even with me. The curler had a rubber band attached to it to hold it in place. "How does that feel?" Asked Mrs. Thomas "It's pretty tight." "The tension will ease a bit when we put the perm lotion on." "Remember Robbie, what I told you when you were putting rollers in my hair." Added my mom. " A little pulling is expected, it's just part of getting your hair done." Mrs. Thomas continued working and soon I had about 50 tiny curlers in my hair. All the time she was working I was getting more excited as the tight little rollers pulled at my hair. She kept up a conversation with my mom the whole time, about hairstyles, old friends, food, everything. Betty didn't say much. She did squeeze my hand twice, and smile at me a lot. "Well, you're all rolled up. Want to see the back?" "Sure" Mrs. Thomas led me to a wall mirror. She used the mirror from the table to show me my head from both sides and the back. The curlers, or rods, as she called them, were in perfect vertical rows at the sides and back. On the top of my head, they were in 3 neat front-to-back lines. This was certainly the neatest, most precise job of hair setting I had ever seen. Mrs. Thomas asked me if I wanted to touch the rods. I gently patted my head. The feeling was so exciting I was afraid everyone, even Betty, could tell how I felt. I was embarrassed to be so excited over getting this girlish thing done to my hair. "Stretch your legs and use the bathroom if you have to. You're going to be sitting for a while once I apply the waving solution." I walked up and down the hall twice and returned to my chair. Mrs. Thomas took out some absorbent cotton and put a wide, thick band around my head. "This will catch most of the drips" She handed me a small towel "This is to wipe up any solution you feel running down your face or neck. Be sure to stop any before it reaches your eyes." I wondered how strong this chemical was going to be. Mrs. Thomas picked up a plastic bottle with a spout top. "Last chance to back out." "Oh don't say that, Mommy. Getting a perm isn't so bad, and Robbie looks so cute with his hair rolled up. I know his hair will look great after the perm too." "I was just joking with him, Betty. Robbie knows we're not going to do anything to him, except make his hair prettier." I just sat there. I really didn't know what was going to happen next. Mom didn't say anything. She just sat across the table from me and stayed out of the way. Mrs. Thomas took the bottle of liquid and began to squirt it onto the rods, one at a time. I could feel the liquid trickle onto my scalp, as each rod was soaked. This stuff was definitely not setting lotion! "What's in that stuff, ammonia and burnt match heads?" Mrs. Thomas laughed. "You may be close. I remember, that way back when I went to beauty school, the teacher said there was ammonia and sulfur in waving lotion." She continued to squirt the lotion onto the rods. The smell was really getting strong now. Finally, she finished soaking the rods. She took a clear plastic cap with an elastic edge and put it over my head. "That's to keep the lotion from drying out too fast. It only works while it's wet. Is the smell too strong for you?" Actually, the chemical smell was pretty bad, but I knew I was stuck with it until the perm was done. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Now, you can sit and wait for about 40 minutes, or we can use the heat of the dryer and get you done in half that time." "I guess I'm pretty used to dryers by now." Betty rolled in the big chrome dryer, the same one I had fixed the plug on. Her mom lowered it over my head and turned it on. The first blast of air carried the chemical smell down from my head and right into my nose. It made me feel like throwing up. The air got hotter. If anything, the smell got even stronger. Betty moved the mirror on the table so I could see myself. Suddenly, I forgot all about the smell. I was looking at myself and seeing a lady in a salon! I looked just like the grown up ladies getting their hair done! I was getting so excited that I could hardly breath. I just wanted to get my hand down near my penis, but I didn't dare do that with everyone in the room. Mrs. Thomas put a white cooking timer on the table in front of me. I could see it was set for 20 minutes and I knew it was ticking, though I couldn't hear it with my head under the dryer. By now, my eyes were watering from the chemical smell, and I was sweating from the dryer heat and my own excitement. I used the small towel to wipe my face a few times. Betty brought me a glass of cold water and a fresh, cool, and damp towel. I drank the water and held the towel against my eyes to keep the fumes away. I could see by the timer that there was only a minute or so left. Mrs. Thomas shut off the dryer and lifted it from my head. She unrolled one of the rods. "Your curls are forming very nicely. You'll be done in about 5 more minutes." I could feel her re-roll the rod, and replace the cap. She lowered the dryer and turned it back on. I put the towel back against my eyes. The cool dampness of the towel was soothing and kept the fumes away from my eyes almost completely. I just sat there and waited for Mrs. Thomas to come back and turn off the dryer. Suddenly the roaring of the air in my ears stopped. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was surprised to hear Betty's voice. "Mother says you're all done processing. Come over to the sink. We have to get all that yucky smelling lotion off your hair." Mom and Mrs. Thomas watched while Betty adjusted the water temperature and had me bend as far over the sink as I could. My nose was only an inch or two from the bottom of the sink. Betty removed the absorbent cotton and used the spray hose to rinse my head again and again. "Betty, be sure to rinse every single rod with plenty of water." "Mother, that's what I'm doing." The ammonia fumes were disappearing, but the sulfur smell was still there. The water felt great on my head, but Betty kept rinsing so long that my neck was starting to hurt. "Okay Betty, I think that's enough rinsing. Pat off the water and bring Robbie back to the table. We still have to neutralize his curls." Betty pressed a dry towel against the rods on my head as her mom had asked. I walked back to the table. Mrs. Thomas took over again. She took another bottle and began to squirt it onto the rods. I expected another horrible smell, but this stuff didn't smell much. It just felt very cold. "This part doesn't take too long." When she finished putting the neutralizer on my hair. I had to wait a few minutes for it to work. Then Mrs. Thomas began to take the rods out of my hair. I couldn't wait to see what my hair looked like, but the mirror wasn't in the right place on the table anymore. Instead there was a mess of empty squeeze bottles, towels, and rods. When all the rods were out, Mrs. Thomas took me back to the sink and rinsed my hair again. She squirted a little more neutralizer on my hair and rinsed some more. Finally, she turned off the water and gently wrapped a towel around my head. "Would you like to see your new perm?" "I sure would." She handed me the mirror from the table and unwrapped the towel. Wow. I had wet curls all over my head. I had never seen myself with wet curls. Up until now, my wet hair fell flat against my head or stuck up at weird angles. Now my hair was very wet and very curly. The top was all small tubular curls and there were tiny ringlets near my ears. My bangs were the only part of my hair that wasn't curly. "Do you like your new look Robbie?" "It sure is different, Mrs. Thomas. Will it dry like this?" "Well, it might, but you're not finished yet. Betty, can you help me set Robbie's hair now?" "Sure Mommy." "Remember, very gently, he has a fresh perm in his hair." Mom just sat there with a half smile on her face. Mrs. Thomas joined her at the far end of the table while Betty stood behind me. I could smell the familiar sweet scent of setting lotion as Betty smoothed it onto my hair with her fingers. Soon Betty was sectioning my hair and winding it onto rollers. "My mother said I should use these 3/4" smooth plastic rollers. She says they will give you just the right size curls." I loved the feeling of Betty doing my hair. I could tell that she was being very careful to wind each roller just right. I'm sure Betty had no idea how excited I was as she worked on my hair. It was getting hard to breathe. "May I do something special with your bangs?" "Oh boy, gel curls again." I thought. "Well...I'm not..." "You can wash them out if you don't like what I do." I just kind of nodded my head. I saw Betty put a big dollop of setting lotion into her palm and soak my bangs with it. Then she rolled the hair onto 4 perm rods and let them hang down onto my forehead. Betty gave me a hairnet to put on. "Sorry, all we have is pink" I put it on. Mrs. Thomas came over to look at Betty's work. "You did a fine job, but don't forget ear pads." Betty tucked big wads of cotton under the edges of the net, covering my ears. Mrs. Thomas told me that with my ears protected, she would be able to turn the dryer up hotter, and finish my hair more quickly. She put me under the dryer for the second time that day. Mom and Mrs. Thomas left the room. They were talking to each other as they left, but I couldn't hear a thing with that dryer going. Betty pulled over a chair and sat down close to me while I sat under the dryer. She took my right hand in hers and began to stroke it gently with her other hand. After a few seconds, she stopped and held my hand with the back side of it up. She seemed to be looking at it closely. Then she put my hand down and showed me the nails on her left hand. She pointed to them with her free index finger. Her nails looked very well cared for. She obviously didn't bite or tear them. They were perfectly clean and coated with pink polish. Not clear polish with a touch pink, like I had had on that day at the museum with Jen, but real pink color, with no doubt about it. Betty held one of my fingers in her left hand and made a motion with her right, like she was painting my nail! "No Betty. I don't want my nails polished." Betty didn't say anything I could hear. She just smiled broadly, put her palms together, and mouthed "Please, for me?" I didn't want polish on my nails again. I had been so embarrassed about my nails that day at the museum. I'm a boy. Wow. That would sound silly coming from me now, dressed in pastel colors and a pink hairnet and sitting under a dryer. Betty lifted the hood about two inches and spoke right into my ear. "Please let me do your nails, Robbie. Your hands are so clean and soft, they would look great with a manicure. See how pretty mine are, and I did them myself." Betty had her cheek right next to mine and was holding her fingers up in front of both of us to show me her manicure. She moved her head slightly and I could feel her hair and her bow touch my face. It felt wonderful. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my arms around Betty and I was hugging her! Betty turned her head, kissed me on the lips, and quickly pulled away. "I'll get the nail stuff. Wait right here." Like I could do anything else. Betty was back in a few seconds. She took my hand and began to work on my nails with some kind of sandpaper stick. I had seen my mother use them before. "What's that thing called?" "This? It's called an emery board." "I could use one for sanding tight spots on model airplanes." Betty used the emery board to shape all of my nails. She made each one come to a rounded tip. "You should stop biting your nails." "I only do it once in a while. Most of my nails aren't bitten." "I used to bite mine too. Mother got me to stop with this stuff she bought at the beauty store." Betty was finished sanding now. She picked up a bottle of polish, shook it up, and opened it. She took my hand and painted one nail. It was clear! No color at all, just very shiny. "See, that's not so bad. It doesn't look too girlish, does it." "I guess it's okay." When all my nails were done, I had to sit and hold my hands still until they dried. Betty wouldn't even let me read or anything. Finally they were dry. Then Betty got another little bottle that looked like more nail polish. "This will stop you from biting your nails. It tastes really bitter. If you start to nibble an a nail, this will remind you not to do it." Betty painted the anti-biting stuff on all my nails. It disappeared as it dried. As soon as it was dry, Betty made me taste my thumbnail. "Yuck, that tastes awful. Do I have to use it?" "Keep your nails out of your mouth and you never have to taste it again. Take this with you. I don't need it anymore. Be sure to put it on your nails three times every day. By the time school starts again, you'll be out of the biting habit, and your nails will be so pretty." I put the little bottle into the pocket of my shorts. The idea of deliberately putting something on my hands, something with a terrible taste, just to train myself to keep my nails pretty, seemed like such a girlish thing to do. But the more I thought about the idea, the more exciting it was. It was as exciting to think about my nails, as it was to think about the rollers drying in my hair. I had just put away the bottle of anti-nail biting stuff when Mrs. Thomas and my mother returned. Mrs. Thomas came over to my chair and shut off the dryer and lifted the hood all the way off. "I think you're dry by now." She unrolled one roller from the back of my head. "Sure enough, completely dry. Let's get you combed out. I bet you can't wait to see the finished product." Actually, I was having a pretty good time as it was. I don't think I could remember ever being so excited before, and for so long. "Do you have a particular style you want. Betty set your hair in a brick pattern, and that's a versatile set. I can comb it out in a number of ways." "Well, Mrs. Thomas, I liked the petal curls you did for me that first time. Can I still have them, even with a perm?" "Oh, they'll be even prettier now. And they'll last longer too. That's the main thing with a perm. Your curls stay in much better." She asked Betty to remove all the rollers from my hair. Then she worked the curls with her fingers and a small brush until every curl was in place. The four perm rods left my bangs looking like four corkscrews bouncing against my forehead. Mrs. Thomas loosened them very carefully, so that they weren't as tight, but they were still shiny. "How do you like the tendrils?" "What are tendrils?" "The spiral curls on your forehead." I was about to say that they were as girly as gel curls, and that I really didn't want to be seen with them by the kids on my block. Then I saw Betty smiling at me. "They sure look very...very..er..dressy." Betty came closer and gently touched one of my tendrils. "I know. I'm hoping you'll wear gel curls or tendrils to the tea party. You look so good with a dressy hairdo." My mother hadn't said much to me most of the afternoon. Now she came over and stood next to Betty. "Robbie dear, you look so nice with those cute little curls on your forehead. Please leave them in for a while" All this talk about my hair was embarrassing me. I just wanted to end this discussion and change the subject. "Okay, I'll try them for a while. Mrs. Thomas finished combing and brushing and then sprayed my hair. "You don't need as much spray now. The perm will help keep you in curls." Mrs. Thomas asked Betty and me to clean up the table and put all the supplies away, while she prepared some iced tea and got out some cookies. It was almost 4 o'clock. I had spent almost 3 hours getting my hair and nails done. I remembered how little time a haircut used to take. When the barber shop wasn't busy, I could be there and back in just about a half an hour. That included the 5 block bike ride. After we cleaned up the table, Mrs. Thomas gave us the cups, plates and napkins to set out. I helped Betty put everything on the table. I watched how she was very careful to set everything out straight and spaced just so. I copied the way Betty did it. When the table was set, Mrs. Thomas asked me to take the trash out to the can at the curb. She said it would be more pleasant to eat without all the perm lotion soaked trash in the room. As I went through the hall, I got a good view of myself in the big hall mirror. I had to face it. I just didn't look like a boy anymore. I carried the garbage out to the curb and dropped it into the garbage can. I went back into the house. As soon as I walked through the door, the smell struck me. It was funny, I hadn't noticed it when I was inside, but coming in from the street it just hit me. The place smelled like a beauty parlor. I remembered it from when I had gone with Mom, once or twice. It wasn't just one smell. It was everything from perm lotion to nail polish to hair spray mixed together. And all those smelly things had been used on me today. I guess I must have smelled like a beauty parlor myself. I stopped and took a long careful look at myself in that hall mirror. Mrs. Thomas had finished my hairdo with very delicate looking petal curls. They were small and looked very much like flower petals. The tendrils on my forehead were loose spirals that looked a bit like parts of a vine plant. My orange shell and light green shorts were still perfectly clean. The plastic cape had protected them from all the hair styling chemicals. Just for fun, I tried imagining that I was really a girl, not just a boy dressed like a girl. I tried to feel like a girl, to stand just like one and hold my hands just right. "Robbie, everyone else is in the kitchen. We're waiting for you." I was looking at myself so hard in the mirror, that I hadn't noticed Betty looking at me. "Not that I blame you. If I were that pretty, I think I'd spend a lot of time in front of a mirror too." I felt my ears start to burn and my cheeks getting hot with embarrassment. I went into the kitchen and sat at one of the four place settings. Betty sat down next to me. I felt a kitten rub against my leg. I bent down to stroke it. "What's this one's name?" "I call her Splash, because she looks like she had paint splashed on her. Mother says she's a calico, and that all calico cats are females." I picked up the kitten and put her on my lap. She made herself comfortable and began to purr. "She trusts you. If you leave her there, she'll probably just fall asleep." I let the kitten stay on my lap. She began to press down on my thigh with her front paws, first with one paw and then with the other. "Betty, what is this cat doing? Is she trying to flatten my leg or something?" Betty looked at the kitten in my lap and giggled. "She's kneading you. She thinks you're her Mommy. Kittens do that to help them get milk from their mothers. They press like that while they're suckling. This one does it every time she gets sleepy." I felt really strange. It was one thing for people to think I look like a girl, what with my hairdos and clothes, but now a kitten thought I was a mother cat! We sat around the table, enjoying the iced tea and cookies. Mom asked Betty about the tea party that the girl's club was planning. "What will you be having at the party?" "Each girl is going to bring something. Caroline and Susan are baking cookies together, the day before. Sara is bringing little sandwiches and Ashley just said that she is bringing a surprise treat." "What are you bringing, Betty?" "I want to bring a cherry pie. I was going to ask Robbie to help me make it. Will you help me, Robbie?" "Sure, I guess so." "Great. We can do it here, the day before. See you Monday, right after lunch." We talked for a while more. Betty told everyone about the pretty yellow dress that she was planning to wear to the tea party. "Mother, can I wear bigger earrings and some lipstick too? Just a tiny bit of light pink? It is a dressy party." Betty's mom laughed a bit. "Oh, you want to grow up so fast, sweetheart. I guess bigger earrings are okay, If you let me help you select them. We'll see how look all dressed, then we'll decide about the lipstick." "Mother, I think all the other girls will have lipstick on. How about you Robbie?" "I guess some of them will." "No, silly, I didn't mean that. I meant you. Are you going to wear lipstick?" "That does it. I'm not a girl. I'm a boy. I know I look like a girl most of the time now, and I stink like a beauty parlor today. I just spent the whole afternoon getting my hair done, and I even have nail polish on. But I'm still a boy, regardless. I don't plan on wearing lipstick, or face powder or any of that stuff. I don't like this kitten treating me like a mother cat, and I don't ever plan on playing with a Barbie doll." I got up and started to run out of the room. The kitten flew off my lap with a loud meow. My glass of iced tea fell to the floor and smashed. I paused for a second at the sound of the breaking glass. Mom grabbed me by the wrist and dug her nails into me. "Where do you think you are going? You're acting like a little beast. You go out to the car and wait there for me. You are in deep, deep trouble now." My heart was pounding a mile a minute. Mom wasn't even shouting. Her face was red as a Christmas light, but her voice was hard and even. I was scared. "Mom, I'm sorry..." "Too late for that. Move." I walked out to the car and sat down to wait for Mom. I was whimpering, almost crying with fear, when I saw her come down the front steps and walk toward the car. Mom got into the car and sat down. She didn't even look at me. She put on her seat belt and started the engine. She slowly backed out of the Thomas's driveway. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break that glass." "The glass? That was a minor detail. You acted like an ungrateful thug. You shamed and humiliated me again. Here Mrs. Thomas and Betty went to all that trouble to do your perm, and you could only be vicious in return." "I said I was sorry." "You think that's enough?" Mom was shouting now. "You are going to be punished in a way you will remember. In addition to being punished, you are going to have to apologize properly to Mrs. Thomas and to Betty. You are going to have to prove that you are civilized, not a wild animal." We were at a stoplight, only a block from home. Mom didn't say anything else until we got home. Mom got the mail from our box and unlocked the door. "Bills and more bills. Oh, here is a letter from your father." Mom opened the letter from Dad first. Her look softened a little at first, but I could see her face get more serious as she read. When she turned to the second page, she looked like she was about to cry. She folded the letter and stuffed it into her purse. Mom's voice was a bit unsteady as she spoke to me. "Go up to your room and change your clothes. Put on your blue long sleeve button-up shirt, your chinos and your black loafers. Be down here in 5 minutes. Don't mess up even one curl, or you'll be sorry." I didn't know what Mom had in mind. She was asking me to wear the same kind of boy clothes I would wear to church. I took off my shell very carefully, and put on the blue shirt. The fabric felt rough and stiff compared to the soft, smooth shell. I put on the chinos and shoes. I heard Mom climb the stairs, go into her room and go back downstairs while I was changing. I rushed downstairs. Mom was waiting. Her eyes looked red, like she had been crying. Mom made me stand still while she looked carefully at me. "You look just about ready. Just two more things." Mom buttoned the very top button of my shirt. It made the collar tight around my throat. I didn't like the feeling. "That's much neater looking, a bit more formal." Then she stuck something into my hair. I reached up to feel what she had done. Mom stopped my hand before I could reach my head. "Don't you dare touch that. You may look in the mirror, but don't touch!" I guess I knew what to expect. It was no great surprise to see the little blue bow attached to the petal curls at the front of my head, just above my spiral tendrils. The bow was made of silky looking ribbon, but the color was the same light blue as my shirt. "Don't stare at yourself all day. We're going to do some shopping and have a snack at the mall. Get into the car." "Mom, do I have to go?" "Yes, you do." "But Mom, I look like a sissy. Everyone will tease me dressed like this. What if I meet someone who knows me?" "Well, it looks like you figured out the first part of your punishment, doesn't it? Out to the car!" Talk about looking both ways before crossing the street. I must have looked up and down the block five times to make sure nobody was around, before I dashed out to the car. I got in the passenger door and slumped down in the seat. "A bit embarrassed to be seen, are you?" "Mom, I don't look like a boy or like a girl. I'm wearing boy's clothes, but not like boys usually wear them. Nobody buttons up his shirt like this. And I have a real girl's hairdo, with a bow pinned into it. I don't look like a boy or a girl. Everybody will be laughing at me." "I'm glad you understand. How do you think I felt when you acted like a nasty fool in front of one of my dearest friends? Do you think I was proud of you, or that I just wanted to drop into a hole in the ground?" "I'm sorry Mom, It was just that when Betty asked me if I would be wearing lipstick to her party...I mean, boys don't..." "There were about 5 other ways you could have gotten your point across. The easiest being to say that you hadn't thought about it yet." As usual, Mom was right. If I had just said that, or something like it, the afternoon at Betty's would have ended a lot better, and I wouldn't be here now, dressed like this. I didn't say anything the rest of the way to the mall. Mom took me into a sewing and craft store first. She looked at some scented candles and stuff like that, but she didn't buy anything. A lady who worked at the store came over to Mom, and looked at me. "Oh he is adorable. Such pretty curls. How I wish my grandson was so ..er..refined." Mom whispered something into the lady's ear. The lady stopped smiling, and she looked at me sternly, like my 2nd grade teacher used to do. "I have just the thing. I think it will match perfectly. Wait here." She returned and handed Mom some kind of fancy cloth band, with a bow in the middle. "This is a lace bride's garter. See how delicate the edges are. And this one is light blue, just like your son's shirt. It will look darling as a bow tie. I think the band is just wide enough so some of the lace will show from under his collar." She looked at me. "Would like to try it on?" "What do you say Robbie?" added Mom. I wanted to say "Drop dead," but I was sure that would get the bow around my neck, and probably a matching one on each wrist. "Thank you, but not right now Ma'am" I tried to sound friendly, even though I wanted to knock her block off. "I don't think Robbie needs to try it on. I'm sure it will fit very well. Just put in a bag." The garter cost three dollars. Mom paid and we left. Mom said that the next store she wanted to visit was at the other end of the mall. We had to walk past the video arcade on the way. There were some kids hanging around in front of the arcade. One of them spotted me. "Look at Mommy's little sweetheart" I could feel my face get red. "I'll bet he wears girl's underwear." "Sweetheart, do you wear little girly panties?" "Let's pull his pants down and see" I realized I did have girl's panties on. I was still wearing them from this morning. I tried to walk faster to get away from there as fast as I could. Mom was acting like she didn't hear a thing. One boy followed us for about 1/2 the length of the mall. He kept talking about my underwear and threatening to pull my pants down. He was small enough for me to beat up, or at least have an even fight. But I knew what Mom would do, if I tried. We kept walking through the mall, stopping now and then for Mom to window shop at women's shoe and dress shops. The kid who was following us finally turned and trotted back toward the arcade. As he turned, he shouted over his shoulder. "You better not come around here without your Mommy, because I'll beat your little pansy face to a pulp if I catch you." I wanted to chase him and show him he might be in for a surprise if he tried, but the thought of a ribbon and lace bow around my neck, added to what I was already wearing, was enough to stop me. Mom had stopped walking. I stopped next to her. We were standing at a jewelry display. "Here we are. This is what I was looking for" We weren't in a store at all. It was more like a large stand in the middle of the walking area of the mall. A pretty, tall teenage girl was inside the stand, at the far end. She had long, straight black hair, and seemed to be wearing a lot of makeup and jewelry. She walked over and spoke to my mother. "Hi, May I help you?" "I'd like to see some stud earrings, small ones. I think you call them 'starters.'" The girl walked about three steps and pointed down, into the display under the glass counter top. I noticed a name tag on her white blouse. It said "Debbie" "These are very nice. They have 18 carat gold posts, so they are good as starters. Will you be getting a third set of piercings?" "Oh no, I'm quite happy with two in each ear. These are for my son here." "Oh...Sure...For your son. I see" "In fact, I think pearl studs would look best on him. Do you have any with tiny, delicate seed pearls?" "Mom, I don't want earrings. I look enough like a girl already. I won't let her pierce my ears." "Are you sure about that?" Mom reached into the small paper bag that held that lace bow thing. She didn't say anything. She just kept her hand in the bag, like she was fingering what was inside. "Ma'am, here is what we have in pearl studs. We are a little low on stock this time of year. It seems so many little girls get their first earrings in June. It must be all the weddings and graduation parties." Mom looked at the tray the girl was holding in front of us. She pointed to a pair. The pearls were pretty small. Not small enough though. I could see them. "I like these. Please put them in his ears." "Mom, please no" "Oh Robbie, think of how nice they'll look when you're all dressed up for the party." "Mom, I'm afraid. I don't want to get holes punched in my ears." "Don't be a fraidy-cat, even little girls don't cry when they get their ears pierced" "No, I said I won't let her, and I mean it." The jewelry girl was watching us. Mom nodded to her, and she reached down and lifted a section of the counter so that we could walk into the middle of the stand. Then she backed up to make room, and stood behind a high stool. "Robbie, get on that stool now" Mom was using her no-nonsense voice. I got onto the stool. I felt the girl wipe my ear with something very cool. I smelled alcohol. A second later, I heard a snap and felt a pain in my ear. "Ouch. That hurt." "Hold still. I want to get them even. Uneven earrings look so silly." I felt the alcohol wipe again and then another snap. The pain wasn't as bad this time. Maybe because I knew what to expect. "Here, take a look." She held a mirror up to my face. I turned my head and saw a little pearl, and a little drop of blood, on each ear lobe. The girl cleaned off the blood with a little piece of gauze, and more alcohol. I looked carefully at my ears. With little curls covering the top half of them, and pearl earrings at the bottom, they didn't look like my ears at all. They looked like Mom's. I looked at my reflection and thought about how "girly" I was getting to look. I had a fresh hairdo, all done in petal curls and tendrils. I was wearing a small bow in my hair and had brand new earrings. Of course I was wearing a boys shirt, pants, shoes and socks. But I knew I was only wearing those because my mother was trying to teach me a lesson for how I had acted that afternoon. The more I looked, the more the hairdo, the hair bow and the earrings seemed to belong together. I liked the way I looked. It was the clothes that looked all wrong. Debbie handed me a small bag. She said it was a "starter kit" for my ears. She explained to both of us that I was not to take out the earrings, for at least 3 weeks, or the holes would quickly close up. She said I would have to clean my ears with the cotton and the solution in the bag, every day for those three weeks. She said it would be helpful to turn the studs too, so they wouldn't stick in place. After three weeks I could change earrings, or even leave them out for a while. I asked her if I could get an infection. "Only if you let them get dirty. Then you'll have to go to the doctor. That almost never happens, though. Even when your ears are all healed, its best to wear earrings as often as you can. At least a couple of days a week, so the holes stay nice and free. Besides, earrings look so pretty on a girl...on a person." "Thank you Debbie. Robbie, what do you say?" "Thank you Debbie." Mom paid for the earrings and we left. We continued through the mall. At first I thought everyone was staring at me. Mom made me come with her into a makeup store, and into a drug store. Nobody said anything to me at either of those places. I was starting to feel more comfortable. We passed a place that that sold candy and popcorn. The smell made me hungry. We passed a store that sold sports trading cards and comics books. I thought I saw a comic book I liked in the window, and paused for a few seconds, forgetting how I was dressed. Mom walked on ahead. Just then, three boys came out of the store. One of the boys saw me. "Mike, Joe, look at this kid. He has a bow in his hair! What is he, a faggot?" "No, he can't be one of those until he grows up. I think he's just a little sissy." I started to try to catch up with Mom. The first boy ran right past me, stopped, and blocked my path. He tried to stand like a girl and made his voice high pitched as he spoke. "Oh you look soooo pretty! Did you go to the beauty parlor today?" It was too much. Too much in one day. I felt as hurt as if he had kicked me. I guess it showed. "Oooo The sissy is about to cry. Don't cry sissy. Be a good little sissy and Mommy will buy you a dolly." "Shut up or I'll show who's gonna go home crying." "Oh you're a tough little sissy. Hey guys, ever see a tough sissy?" "Not me." "Me either." "Wadda'ya gonna do if I steal your hair bow, hit me with your purse?" He reached up to the grab the bow in my hair. I punched him in the stomach. As hard as I could. He must have been off balance, because he fell backwards and landed right on his butt. He had been carrying a large paper cup of soda. It made a big splash as he hit the floor. The other two boys and Mom all turned to see what had happened. "Hey Mike, the sissy put Andy on his ass." "Andy, can't you fight anymore?" I stood their, ready to hit him again, if he tried to go for me. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned. It was Mom. "You haven't learned a thing yet, have you?" "Mom, he started it." "And you had to finish it, didn't you?" She turned to the three boys, who were watching. "Move, before I get a security guard to help you move." The boys walked slowly away. "What were you doing stopping at that store? You know that the kids who hang out in there, are just like the kids at the arcade. What did you expect to happen?" "I guess I forgot how I looked." "Stand still. This ought to help you remember" Mom took the lacy blue bow out of the bag. As I stood there, she turned up my collar and hooked the band around my neck. She turned my collar back down and adjusted the bow. I could feel the stiff edges of the lace bow under my chin. Mom made me walk over to the window of a dark, empty store. I could see my reflection in the window. The bow was made of wide blue ribbon. There was white lace around the edges. Lace showed all around, from the edge of my collar. "Now, we finish our shopping, then we'll have hamburgers" Now, I knew I looked totally weird. Boys didn't dress like this. Girls didn't dress like this. I had seen men wear bow ties before, but never one with white lace around the edges. I had seen girls wear things with lace trim, but not with boy's shirts, chinos and loafers. And I had never, ever, seen any boy or man, with a bow in his hair! I wasn't the only one who noticed. I could tell that people were looking at me. I could see their heads turn to keep looking, even as they walked past. A few even pointed. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. My ears had been burning already, from the piercing. Now they were on fire. I felt like crying. I bent my head forward and walked along, looking at the floor in front of my feet. I couldn't stand to see the people looking at me. "Walk like that if you choose Robbie. It shows off your curls, and your pretty hair bow, so nicely." I lifted my head instantly. "Mom, please. I hate to have people look at me this way. Can we go right home?" "Now you know what humiliation is. This is what you did to me at the Thomas' house. I was humiliated by your actions then, just as you are humiliated now, by how you are dressed. Do you think you've learned your lesson?" "Yes" I choked a bit on the word. I could feel the tears coming. "Could you say 'Yes, Mother?'" "Yes, Mother. I've learned my lesson." I was actually crying now. Mom heard it in my voice. She reached into her handbag and gave me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and nose. The tissue smelled like Mom's purse. It reminded me of the hand lotion she had put on me. "Well, we can see if you've learned your lesson, and perhaps make you feel much more comfortable in this next store." We walked into the department store at the end of the corridor. I followed Mom closely as she walked right to the cosmetics counter. A young woman was standing near the counter with a tiny spray bottle in her hand. She asked Mom if she would like to try a new fragrance. Mom held out her wrist, and the woman sprayed something on it. It was a very sweet, flowery smell. "Would you like some too, sweetie?" "No thank you. Mom thinks I'm too young" I don't know why I said that, I must have heard it somewhere. I really wanted to shout for her to get that girly stuff away from me! The girl looked at me and then at Mom. She smiled at Mom and picked up another little squirt bottle." "Can she try some of this, it's a scent made for young girls." She held the bottle out to Mom. Mom sniffed it. "Oh, that is so delicate and light. It's okay Robbie, just a sample." Phfft. My left wrist was perfumed. "Rub your wrists together dear, like this." Mom demonstrated. I copied. Now, I had two perfumed wrists. "What do you say, dear?" "Thank you." We left that counter. Mom had a smile on her face for the first time since we left Betty's house. She led me to the girl's department. "Robbie, I want you to feel comfortable at the tea party next week. You haven't really had much time to get comfortable wearing dressy things. You need some practice. You need at least one or two more dresses, and some other things." Mom took me from rack to rack. She had me try on a slip and about five dresses. She made me walk, turn around, and twirl in them. We chose two to buy. One was yellow and had short, puffy sleeves. The other was a very pale orange. It had no sleeves at all. We also bought the slip and two pairs of little, short white socks with tiny white bows on the sides. "You may wear one of the dresses home, and carry your other outfit in a bag, if you wish. You'll still have boy's shoes on, but we can't help that." Mom was giving me a choice of looking like a girl or like a weird sissy. "I'll go change into the dress." Mom waited outside the dressing room while I put on the pale orange dress. When I came out, she made sure I didn't have any tags showing. We put my chinos, dark socks, blue shirt and that horrible lace bow in the bag. Mom held the tags from the dress and the sales receipt in her hand, ready to show them on the way out of the store. We left the store. "Would you like a snack? I know we kind of skipped dinner." "I could use a burger." We went into the McDonald's in the mall. Mom ordered for both of us while I stood beside her. A teenage girl took our order. "Is that a new dress? It's pretty. I'll bet your earrings are new too. I remember when I got my ears pierced." She had two earrings in one ear, and about 6 in the other. "Did it hurt to get so many earrings put in?" "Oh I didn't get them all the same day. I just kept adding them, one or two at a time. Some of them hurt a bit. But I think lots of earrings look so pretty." She smiled and handed us our food. We sat down. I began to dig in to my burger and fries. I was feeling much better. "Take a quick look at that pretty girl sitting near the exit, but don't stare." I looked at her. She was older than me, maybe 2 or 3 years. She had long, straight hair that hung over the back of her chair. She had red lipstick on. "Look at how she is eating. She is eating slowly, with little bites. That is how a girl should eat. I want you to eat likes she does." That was only the first lesson. The next few days were like going to school. Like going to "girliness school." We finished eating and walked back to our car. I'm sure I looked more like a girl than a boy. The only "boy things" I had on were shoes. I noticed that the loafers I was wearing had leather tassels. I saw a girl walk by wearing almost the same kind of shoes, except hers were brown and somehow looked a little more delicate than mine, but they were basically the same. Of course, she wasn't wearing them with a dress, she was wearing a shell top and jeans that looked brand new. Mom spoke to me in the car. "It is less than a week until the tea party. And, the day before the party, you're supposed to go over to Betty's house to bake a pie with her, if she'll still talk to you after the scene you made." I just looked down. "I guess I should apologize to her, shouldn't I" "You certainly should, and to Mrs. Thomas too." "Do I have to say 'I'm sorry' to the kitten too?" "Don't be fresh, Robbie" Mom couldn't help smiling, even laughing a little. "I'm going to call Betty as soon as we get home." "That's a good idea. You may want to speak to her mother too. I think you should bring them something, to show you've thought about what you did." "What do you mean, like a gift?" "Like something you made yourself, that shows you learned your lesson." Mom had pulled into the parking lot in front of a big store that sold fabrics and sewing stuff. I had been in this store with her before, but never dressed like this. We went inside. I had never realized what a girly place this store was. I noticed that they sold ribbons, lace collars, and tons of stuff for making dresses. We went to a counter that said "Needlepoint" "Look at this, Robbie" Some finished projects hung over the counter. They were in small frames, and had simple drawings on them, with captions underneath. They looked something like color cartoons, except they weren't drawn, they were sewn. On the counter were the "starting materials." Mom picked up a piece of cloth that had a pale blue outline printed on it. There was a picture of a little girl wearing a long wide skirt. Underneath the picture, it said "We all have to learn to control our tempers." "Ah, perfect. Robbie, you will spend the next few days embroidering this to give to Mrs. Thomas and Betty." "Mom, only girls emb..." Her look stopped me from going any further. Mom collected the things she wanted to buy. She bought the cloth, and a little picture frame to hold the finished picture. She bought a few small hanks of colored thread. She called it "floss" "We have everything else you'll need at home." When we got home I called Betty. "Hello, Mrs. Thomas? Is Betty there? This is Robbie. I just wanted to say I'm sorry, to er.. both of you." "Oh Robbie, It wasn't that bad. I think Betty wants to talk to you too. I'll get her." "Hello, Robbie" "Hello, Betty. I just wanted to apologize for how I acted." "Robbie, it was my fault. I really shouldn't have asked you about lipstick like that. I guess I forgot that you're new at being a girl." "But I'm not really a.." "Oh I know that, but you looked so pretty, with your hair set, your nails polished and all." "You're not angry then?" "No, neither is my Mother, not at you anyway. She thinks I shouldn't have asked you about lipstick either. Are you still mad at me for asking you?" "Not really. I just felt really funny about it." We talked for a few more minutes. Betty said that her kitten tried to lap up the iced tea, and she had to hold the cat while her mother cleaned up the broken glass. They both knew the broken glass had been an accident. After the phone call, Mom made me change into my white girl shoes and start on the embroidery. "We've had dinner, and you can work on this until bedtime." Mom got out a big round cardboard box full of embroidery stuff. She took two hoops, and fitted the "canvas" over one and clamped it with the other one. Mom showed me how to thread the needle and how to make neat little X shaped stitches along the outline of the drawing. Mom gave me a thimble to use, so I wouldn't stick my finger. Mom had me sit down in the living room, being careful to smooth my dress under me as I sat down, and stay there, sewing for an hour and a half. She had me sitting right across from the big mirror. Every time I looked up from the sewing, I could see myself, hairdo, dress, pretty socks, and white shoes, sitting there. When I looked down, at my project, I saw my clean hands and polished nails. I wasn't sure I wanted to really turn into a girl, but this was as exciting as anything I had ever done. That night, I was pretty exhausted. It had been a very long day. I undressed and looked for my pajamas. There weren't any in the drawer. I was sure I had seen a clean pair in there this morning, when I put last night's away. There should have been two pairs in the drawer. I knew I would have to ask Mom. I put on my robe and went back down stairs. "Mom, I don't have any pajamas for tonight. I know I had a clean pair." "Clean, yes, but so worn out! They were too small on you, and too warm for summer as well. I think you'll find these a lot more comfortable in this weather." Mom handed me a bag from the department store. There were two pairs of light, thin, short pajamas. I had no idea when she had shopped for these. She sure hadn't done it when I was with her. These pajamas were so light! The bottoms were loose fitting shorts. The tops were a kind of loose fitting button up front shirt. They had short sleeves and came down longer than a regular shirt. "Try a pair on. Here, the light baby blue ones match that sweet bow in your hair." I had forgotten about that hair bow. That thing had been like wearing a huge sign that said SISSY, in big pink letters earlier today. Later, when I was sitting and sewing, I hardly noticed it. Now, it matched my pajamas! I went to my room and put on the pajamas. What a light airy feeling. They weighed almost nothing, and even the slightest breeze made them move. I could feel air moving around my body as I walked. "Aren't you going to show me?" "Sure, Mom, be right there." I went back to where my mother was waiting. "Spin around and show me the back" I twirled around and ended with my back toward Mom. I felt the air moving through the thin fabric as I moved. "They look fine. How do they feel." "Almost like wearing nothing at all. Great for summer. Thanks Mom." "Okay, put the other pair away, and get to sleep. No, wait a second. I'll come upstairs with you. I want you to do something a little different with your hair tonight, and put on some hand lotion before you turn in." Mom came up to my room with me. She showed me how to wind my tendrils on my smallest rollers for the night. We just wound my hair on them dry. Mom said we weren't really setting the tendrils, just keeping them nice. I had 2 curls on each side that came down just in front of my ears. Mom had me put hair setting tape on those. "Mom, I think my Slumber Cap may be too warm tonight. I don't want my hair to get damp from sweating." "Good thinking. You could wear a net instead." We got one of the setting nets out from my roller box. It was a little loose, so mom showed me how to use bobby pins to hold it on. When we were finished with my hair, Mom put lotion into the palms of my hands and watched me rub it in, until it disappeared. She made sure I did a good job on the backs of my hands and around my nails. "Those are the parts that people see most." Then she left the room. I took a last look at myself in the mirror before turning out the light. The little blue bow was still visible through the hairnet. My pajamas were so comfortable on that warm night, I didn't even think about the pattern of lambs and rabbits printed on them. I did notice one thing though. The lambs and rabbits were all wearing hair bows too. The next three days were pretty quiet. Mom called them "practice days." Each day I had to wear a different outfit, but no jeans or Tee shirts were allowed. Mom made sure my hair was always perfect, that my hands were always clean, and that my nail polish wasn't chipped. I spent about two or three hours a day on the embroidery project. It was almost finished. I had stuck myself with the needle plenty of times while I was working. Mostly, I didn't draw blood, though. This time, I poked the needle up through the canvas and stuck myself hard in the back of my left index finger. I felt the pain and quickly put my finger in my mouth. The bitter taste was intense. Mom noticed the face I made. "What is it? You look like you bit into something horrible." "Its okay Mom, just the stuff Betty gave me." "I don't understand." "Oh its just this stuff, you know, you paint it on, like nail polish, but it's to stop you from chewing your nails." "Robbie, your using that bitter stuff! What a great idea. I didn't even have to suggest it." "Its no big deal, I put it on three times a day. It sure reminds me if I start to bite a nail though." Mom stood up from her chair. "Please come here." I put down the embroidery and stood up. Mom had opened her arms in a way that said "hug" As she wrapped her arms around me she said. "You are becoming everything I had hoped you would. I am so happy to know you won't turn out like him." "Like who, Mom?" "Oh Robbie, I had hoped to you from spare this. You are so young to have to hear about the troubles of grown-ups. But I guess you'll learn about it all, sooner or later, anyway. Come sit here." I sat down next to Mom on the couch. "When I was younger, just out of high School in fact, I fell in love with a handsome young man." "You mean Dad?" "No, this was years before I met your father. This fellow's name was Jack." "We were together for two years. He said he loved me as I loved him. We were planning to marry and to begin a family. The wedding was only a month away. I was as happy as a young woman can be." Mom paused. "What happened then?" "He hurt me very badly. I found out that he had another girlfriend. In fact, he had proposed to her too." "What did you do?" "I didn't really do anything. When I confronted him, he laughed in my face. He said something like 'So I like pretty girls, so shoot me.' If I had a gun, I would have!" "Mom, what a horrible person." "Well, I didn't want to talk to another man for over a year. I almost became a nun. But then I met your father." "Was he different?"