My Three Sons 13-14: Like Orange And Green free porn video

{If you appreciate a story's rhythm, then feel free to ignore what are in the indented braces. They are not central to the narration; they describe some of what the girls are aware of, but not what they are most conscious of at the time.} My Three Sons 13-14: Like Orange and Green By Ron Dow75 13) Can You Ever Go Home Again? Back in the white station wagon, ten-year-old Winnie in the big clear- framed glasses was telling her big, former brothers what she'd gotten in the drug store: "...And I got this boss skin-darkening stuff. The commercials say you can't tell it from a real tan!" In the back seat beside the little girl, Jesse said to her, "If you think real tans should be orange." The 13-year-old former brother was sitting in a dress (green gingham, no less), her arms crossed under her only girl coat, and in wedgies-shoes that made her bend her ankle in a way she was totally not use to. Winnie asked, "Orange?" The slightly bucktoothed girl was in her own dress (a blue ribbed jumper). "Tans are... tan." {Her own fuzzy blue coat was thrown in the back with the other things they'd bought this day.} Jesse told her, "That's what Fred DeCordova thought, too. Put some on and see, if you don't believe me." {Jesse had on a blond wig that just grazed her shoulders as it flipped in. Like everything else, it bothered her.) The 16-year-old former brother turned in the front passenger seat: "Just believe her," Tammy, all in pink except for the makeup and light golden bouffant wig, told her. "That stuff stains." {Jesse remembered how much taller Robbie'd sat up front; at least she didn't have to look at Tammy's big D- chests.} Winnie said, "Aw, I'm tired of being pale and pasty." {The little girl had a brunet Dutch boy wig that made her neck look longer and thinner.} The naturally darker complexioned Tammy explained, "On a girl, that's called being fair, Winnie. Girls want to be fair." {Jesse wondered how it was the unnatural pink of Tammy's sweater seemed to become tan-lines.} The kid in the long-sleeved white blouse answered, "Who said I want to be a girl?!" The peach-and-cream Jesse had an answer, too, "Right. And what time zone are you from, 'Tammy'? Color is the thing, for boys or girls. Especially girls; haven't you heard the song 'The Girl from Ipanima'?" Tammy suppressed a smile. "Oh? 'Tall, and blond, and tan and lovely'? Is that the kind of girl you want... to be?" Jesse became glummer. "That's the kind of girl I wanted." She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look past those swellings hanging off her chest and, below, at the thighs and knees she'd made sure was covered by the coat she had over her lap. It made it worse. Without a distraction to take her mind off of her body, she- Alto Tammy, thankfully, interrupted her assessment: "Winnie! What are you doing?" When Jesse looked, she saw that Winnie had lifted her dress up with one hand, and was using her other to, "I'm putting the stuff on where it won't show, and won't stain anything." On her inner thigh. Her dad almost yelled, "Winnie!" Glancing as much as he dared into the rear-view mirror, the tall brunet man in the blue suit ordered her, "Take your hands out from under your dress! I don't want to catch you doing that again!" Jesse told her little sib, "That's really dumb, putting the stuff on there." {Even her voice was not the one she was used to.} "Why?" Winnie asked, but did stop doing what everybody said she shouldn't be doing (and discovering her hand was now orange, too). "I thought I could put wearing a dress to some use." Her dad told her, "Making it easy to reach things is not what dresses are for!" Jesse yelped, "Yes, they are!" And pressed her knees together and her coat down. She felt the Tampax, and welcomed it. Her dad told her, "No, they're not!" {He felt as if the frown he'd worn most of the day was never going to relax.} Tammy said, "Logically, Jesse's right." To their father, Tammy defended the sib having the hardest apparent time adjusting. "But, Jesse, if that was really a problem, don't you think girls would've stopped wearing dresses?" Jesse responded with, "Who said they had a vote? -It wasn't until 1920 that they got any rights! And it took an Amendment to the Constitution!" All because what they -and, now, she- didn't have. (Which was easier to think about than the what and why of what they did have.) Winnie asked, "Does that mean I can go back to wearing pants?" She was using the old beach towel to try to rub the stain off her palm and fingers. "No!" Her dad said. "Winnie, I want you to understand why what you did was wrong." Winnie understood, "I lifted the dress." The stain wasn't coming out. "But there's just us here. And who's going to be staring in a moving car window? It's not like they're going to see anything." {Jesse's senses checked on her hidden panties, while she raised the black coat higher over what could be seen.} Tammy prompted, "But when you get out..." Her thick eyebrows had been darkened, as were her eyelashes. Winnie said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to be lifting any dresses in out where people can see me." She gave up, dropping the towel beside her. (Not thinking about it, she still sat like a boy.} Exasperated, Jesse interjected, "But other things will: Then(!) a big orange stain's going to get people to look at a place they're not supposed to look!" {Jesse was aware that a woman's upper legs felt different; not at all like a boy's.} "Oh?" Winnie asked, looking under the dress. "That's why girls aren't allowed to play anything that'll get them dirty? Cause it leaves smudges and marks in places nobody'd see if they just wore pants?" {Jesse's hairy legs had to be shaved; Winnie's didn't.} Her dad told her, "Er, that, and, other reasons," Tammy spoke up, "Winnie. Girls just have to be more careful; it doesn't mean they can't play most of the games that boys play." Winnie said, "If they'll let them." She let the dress's hem fall with her hand. "Boys my age don't like to play with girls, of any age. And I'm a girl, now. And they'll remind everybody, too." Jesse said, sourly, "But boys my age are sure wanting to 'play' with girls." {In trying to take her mind off her bowl-like pelvis, it went to her boobs.} Her dad warned her, "This is not the time for that." Tammy sought to keep the subject away from a certain younger person, "What else did you get, Winnie?" "Oh," she reached into the brown paper drug store bag, "I got hair gel for girls. I guess regular old hair goop isn't good enough for girls." Tammy said, "Well, girls do make their hair do more than guys do." Just look at the piled up hair on top of her head. Jesse was struggling to change the subject she was thinking about, "But we're wearing wigs." {She wanted a bra, now; it would be like Tampax's for the chest, another layer.} Winnie said, "We're not always going to be wearing wigs." Tammy said, "The girl at the wig department said that we could use the normal hair sprays or gels on the wigs." {She felt the makeup she had on needed fixing.} "Besides," Winnie said, "Dad had to find something to keep me away from you guys in feminine hygiene." (At the mention of feminine hygiene, both Tammy and Jesse had decided to become quiet. (And Jesse, red.)) "That's how come I got this deodorant for girls only." She showed them the roll-on, "We also got you guys your own bottles. -Hey! Maybe that's why girls have to have different kinds of drugstore stuff: You know, on the commercials they talk about how different their pH balance is from guys. I don't know exactly what that is, but it has to do with chemistry, like you were talking about. It must have something to do with detergent, because I remember laundry commercials talking about that, too. And they talk about how good they are at getting blood stains out-" (Steve Douglas's control of the steering wheel faltered a bit.) Paler, Jesse stopped being quiet: "Blood?!" "No, Winnie," Tammy said as calmly as she could, "I don't think there's a connection." {Having remained twisted in the seat to talk to them this long, made her more aware of her 24" waist, and 36" hips.} (Steve Douglas the engineer (though aerodynamic) told her, "pH has to do with the alkalinity-acidity scale.") But Jesse's mind wasn't on her dad, "Winnie, how much did you hear?!" Jesse wanted to know. Her "shell-like" ears burned. Winnie said, "The only things at the far corner of the drug store a little kid like me might be interested in were these novelty toys. Just about the only things there I didn't already have were the plastic jewelry, dolls, and coloring books for girls. (I let Dad buy them, because I didn't want to argue with him while you two were arguing.)" Jesse said, "You heard us?!" She was uncomfortably aware, now, of the pad in her panties' crotch. The girl with the round cheeks explained, "You overhear people taking about blood, and you try not to listen." Tammy said, "You haven't been acting very curious about it." She thought that wasn't like the former little boy. Winnie said, "I overheard enough. It was about blood and girls(!), not blood and guys. It's obvious even to a little kid like me it's one of those things I'm not going to know all about until somebody is ready to tell me. And judging by what it was doing to you two, I figured I could wait. For now. In the meantime, you've had to let me talk about what I got, because you weren't going to talk about what you got." Tammy shook her head while smiling, "Now, that sounds like the little kid, I know." {She had to be careful, with that high wig on.} Winnie said, "The blood must be why we got the stain remover. Dad tried to tell me just because we're girls now, we have to help more with the housework." {She was moving one knee in and out, now.} "What?" Tammy looked to her dad, now. The makeup around them made her eyes look even larger. The man tried to explain, glancing over, "I was looking for an excuse to get Winnie over to another section." {Tammy noticed, again, how he wouldn't look at her unless he had to.} Tammy accused, "You thought that telling her that just because she's a girl, she's expected to do housework would interest her?" {He didn't like looking at the others, but in Tammy's case, it seemed more deliberate.} Winnie said, "It certainly distracted me. Until I ran away to you two." "Dad!" Jesse protested. "We already do housework: Uncle Charley makes us!" {Tammy noted Jesse's figure. She had one, an impressive one, too, that a coat in front of her couldn't hide.} Steve defended himself, "I told you, it was just to-" Winnie said, "I bet no boy-kid in town is as neat and clean as we were as boy-kids. Maybe, even, the whole state!" "Oh, no," Tammy groaned, losing a train of thought. "Knowing Uncle Charley, he probably will think that housework is woman's work." (Winnie looked for a loophole, "But I'm definitely a little girl. I don't have to go into the feminine hygiene aisle.") Their father said, "I wouldn't think that! Charley was an old sea cook. He ran the galley, and everything involved with it. I'm sure he won't like you interfering with his, bailiwick." "Dad," Tammy said, "we're not his competition-" Jesse understood, "We're his staff! We're his underlings-" Winnie, still looking, asked, "Do they have girls in the merchant marine?" Their dad insisted, "You're family! I will talk to Uncle Charley, and make sure he remembers that. But I want you to remember what he's like: Don't think he's making you do things that he didn't make you do as... uh, boys." Jesse said, "He'll just make us do a better job of it." +++ They were on their street nearing their house: Jesse said, "Winnie, I thought you weren't going to do that!" The little girl with her dress rose, and her right leg out, was rubbing her thin little thigh with a wet finger. "I want to see if I can get the orange out. It won't come off the hand, but-" "Winnie!" Her dad exclaimed. "I told you no! If you have to do it, do it inside! And don't sit like that!" Winnie halfheartedly sat up "right". Tammy explained to her, "The neighbors will be looking in, wondering who the new girls with Dad are. Is that the first impression you want them to have of you as a girl?" {And what kind of impression would she make? Her D-cups became a burden. She checked to make sure her pink sweater was draped over them properly.} That did the trick; Winnie hid her thighs as best she could in a kid's short jumper. And wished she could hide more of herself than just her bare legs. Invisible would be nice. "What are we going to tell them?" Jesse told her (and herself), "We don't tell them anything! We're not us: We're some strange girls they've never met before. If we mess up as girls, it won't be us who messes up!" {A part of her tried to tell her HE'd already messed up, and THAT was the reason for the shape she was in.} "Yeah." Winnie agreed. "It's going to be embarrassing enough without our friends knowing who it is being embarrassed." {She pushed out her legs, and looked at the white socks that went halfway up her legs, and the black shoes with straps that boys would never get caught in even on a dare.} Their dad said, "We tell anybody who asks you're relatives." "Cousins," Tammy suggested. "That will explain why we look so much like us. I mean, your three sons." {She was self-conscious of her hairy, unshaved legs.} Winnie said, "That sounds kind of weird. Like it wasn't us." {Of course, would any of them wear dresses? They had hardly ever even wore shorts.} Jesse said, "We aren't us. We're girls. And not even daughters. We have to be nieces." {Did they always feel damp down there? How many Tampaxes do girls go through?) Winnie dropped her legs. "That explains you guys; but what about me?! Did they adopt Ernie's cousin, too? And who's the relative? Do you have any Aunts or Uncles?" Jesse told her, "Why do you have to pick holes in our story before we even tell it?!" {Jesse's muscles were getting tired of sitting with her knees together; of course, it seemed more natural for a girl. It probably had to do with their hips; the knees more naturally come towards each other.} Tammy said, "Winnie's right; we have to get our story together. We have to give people enough quick answers so they'll not think to ask any more." {Her large breasts not only pulled down on her shoulders, but tugged under her armpits. Both would've been even greater if it weren't for the bra. Whose straps were digging into those shoulders.} They were turning into the Douglas driveway, now, and their dad was saying, "There are no aunts, except for some great ones. There were just my brothers." Tammy nodded, "Uncle Robert, and James." (The bra's elastic band also worked its way down into the body's softness.} Winnie said, "And Dad. Hey: Three sons! It must run in the family." {She didn't feel like a boy, but she saw she was more of one than the other two. That made her even more different. Which didn't please her.} Jesse said, "Not any more." {Sons didn't feel warm while they felt cold. And one area was warmer, and damper, than any place else on this bulgy body.} Steve said, as he set the turned off the ignition, and set the brake, "James was killed, in the war." He'd become even more serious. Tammy said, "Well, that would explain me, almost, but not the others." {Bras kept the skin from breathing fully. The longer you were in one, it seemed to Tammy, the more your breasts sweat, and clung to material. Maybe that was why some girls preferred lacy underthings.} Jesse said, "Uncle Robert has plenty of kids. He even has a couple of girls!" (Rolling down the window had only caused a chill as the car moved, and she'd soon rolled it back up. Maybe she was over-reacting; but it seemed to her warmth accentuated the cold by its contrast.} Tammy agreed, opening her door, "It would fit with the story we were telling." {Her bra, like her pink panties, was made out of taffeta. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it wasn't cotton.} Jesse said, "And with what anybody knows about our family around here." Reluctantly, she opened her door. {Her heat seemed to come from the inside, and wasn't easily cooled down by anything outside.} Winnie asked, opening hers, "What happens when this Uncle Robert shows up?" {Winnie wondered how long it would take before she started looking like Tammy, and Jesse; and wondered if she really wanted to.} Tammy said getting out, "We only see him and his family at reunions." {She was in the middle of it before she thought to think of how women got out of cars.} Looking towards the closest door as she got out, pressing the coat to her, Jesse said, "And Bryant Park is hardly a place for a vacation." {She felt very uncomfortable being out in view of people who knew Chip. But, now, feeling a girl's soft bulges around her, literally, helped. Everybody could see she did not look like Chip Douglas. She had to be somebody else. And that somebody else was wearing daisy-covered panties.} Winnie said, getting out, "I'd visit it. The weather's usually nice, and people are friendly even to foster kids." {And she was glad it was warm out, seeing as how much of her legs were out in it. Plain white cotton panties didn't feel so thin.} Their dad warned them, "That'll be enough talk about family outside of the house. Get the things from the back of the wagon, and we can call it a day." +++ They entered through the service porch and through the laundry room; the washer and dryer were going. (The oldest ones, again, were aware of how each of their individual body parts moved practically independent of the others, if they let them. The trick seemed to be not to let them. And they hadn't learned that trick yet.} Tammy commented, "This isn't Uncle Charley's laundry day." (It felt kind of nice, to her.} Jesse said, "This isn't anybody's day," {The humidity was worse for her; she tried to rush through, but Tammy was in her way.} Glancing about, Steve said, "Never mind about the laundry." When they came into the kitchen, Tammy said with no little relief as she headed for the door out of it, "At last, I can get out of this dress." {Warm, damp air could get up your skirt, too, she learned.} Winnie said, "If she doesn't have to wear a dress at home, neither do I!" (Being in a dress in familiar surroundings made her feel even more stupid. Like it, and her, didn't belong there.} Jesse demanded to be included, "Me, too!" (She had spent practically her whole life there. She hadn't even worn anything like this in a play, or a disguise.} Steve Douglas said, "Tammy-" Tammy assured him, "I'm just getting out of this dress, Dad." She lifted the store bag she was carrying out with her. "It was Miss MacDonald's idea that I wear pink. I bought another set of dresses for when she'd not around." {The more she hurried, the more she jiggled.} Her dad nodded; satisfied, but not happy with the answer. The one that used to be his middle son was changing into another(!) dress. Here, in the house he'd raised him and his brothers. Winnie asked, "Can I change, too?" Her dad put a hand on her shoulder, "What you have on is fine." Jesse told her, going out the door into the dining room, "Yeah, Winnie; wearing more than one thing a day is what girls do." Winnie said, pulling on the front of the blue ribbed jumper as she followed, "But I want to wear something that doesn't come up like this." Steve took away his hand, "I thought you liked it because it reminded you of overalls." Winnie told him, "But wearing them makes me remember I didn't wear overalls. If I have to wear something without legs, I want a skirt, with a belt; then part of it would feel like pants." He told her, "Well, we didn't get you anything with a belt, because of that. And what isn't in the bag is being delivered. You'll wear what you have on until bedtime." Winnie had to back down, "Yes, sir." She leaned against the sideboard. {It made her legs stuck out more.} The father demanded of the one sitting, now, on a dining room chair she'd pulled out, "And what are you doing?" Jesse explained, lifting a hairy leg, "I'm taking off these shoes. Do girls really get used to wearing things like these?" Her dad answered with, "No, I guess not. I remember your mother coming home, and immediately getting into something with flatter heels." "Really?" Winnie asked. "I always imagined her as a 'Donna Reed Show' type. You already said she like to wear lace-type clothes, and pearls." Jesse understood, now, how much of a fantasy that was, "At least she wasn't a 'June Cleaver', trying to do housework in high heels." And Jesse'd been wearing only wedgies. {One foot free, she used that to take off the other shoe.} That understood, the father told her, "But you're not going around barefoot. We haven't done that in this house before, and we're not going to do it now. We got you a pair with low heels for when you stopped practicing wearing higher ones." Jesse said, "Yes, sir." There was a thudding of loafers: "Dad! Dad!" Tammy demanded, coming down the stairs. She was talking before she cleared the corner and wall before the dining room, "Uncle Charley said it was your idea!!" Jesse rose to her tired feet, "Idea!?" Winnie was no longer leaning, "Not another one!" Steve Douglas admitted, "Yes, I'm afraid it was. I'll take the blame." The girl still in pink told the other two, "Uncle Charley's been packing away our stuff!" "What!?" Jesse said, hurrying towards the stairs in her bare feet. Winnie looked at the tall man, wishing she couldn't believe it, "Dad, you're taking away everything we had before?" Tammy told him, "Those are my things! I may be just a girl, but I have a right to something!" Steve told her, "It's not like we're throwing them out!" He was upset that she was taking it this way. Especially since he didn't like doing it, either. "We're just putting them in storage! They'll still be there." Tammy told him, "There! Not here! Even a girl who's broken up with a guy has a right to keep mementos!" "What?!" Her dad looked at her startled. Tammy said, "You know what I mean! I have a right to remember the guy I lived with for sixteen plus years!" "You do!" Her father struggled to find the words to explain his had seemed so logical a few short hours ago. "But this, 'guy' is gone. Having 'his' things around will only give you hope that, uh, 'he's' coming back. He may. But we don't know that. You cannot live the rest of your life waiting for him to return. To move on with your new life, you must put him aside, for the time being(!). Once you are comfortable being apart from him, you can bring out his things, again, and find what you can keep of his. 14) Crossing Over into No Boys' Land Tammy asked, practically accusing him, "And did you put Mom in a box, and try and forget about her after she died!?!" A flicker of resentment went across Steven Douglas's face; what remained were his narrowed lips, and his slightly projecting jaw. But he said, "Not at first. I had you, my children, my work, and our church to help distract me. I was busy -we all were: Getting our lives back to normal. That is, the new normal." Her father then took his steely eyes off of her, turning to hide the emotions that welled up in him, struggling to break free. "Then came a time when I wasn't distracted. "It was a knickknack. A silly little porcelain teddy bear." He took a few steps towards the chair in the middle of the dining table. His knees weakened as he lowered himself using the tabletop. "Your mother had bought it when she was pregnant with Mike and we were looking for a home to raise our new family. She told me that teddy bears were for security." He said with a nostalgic smile, "I guess security includes good luck, because that same day the bank called with the mortgage." He took a deep breath, and tried to look at her. "Your Grandfather Bub found me in a chair. It was his idea that we pack away his daughter's things." Tammy's voice caught, "Porcelain teddy bear?" {Her rational, mostly stoic dad had just exposed his feelings; herself being exposed in a skirt physically seemed to help her empathy.} Over by the sideboard, Winnie noted, "There's a teddy bear like that on the shelf over the TV." {She just felt like a strange little kid in a dress.} Steve looked across the entrance hall towards the living room. "After a few months, we had settled into our new routine. Our lives had gotten back to as normal as they could be. That's when I started taking some things out of the boxes." Tammy asked, "And the teddy bear?" {Was her inside getting soft, too?} Her father could, at last, look at her, "That's when I knew the worst of it was over. I could remember your mother the way she would've wanted." Tammy nodded, trying to smile for him, "I see." {Despite her pert mouth and lipstick, she decided she still felt Robbie would have felt the same way about her dad, at a moment like this.} Bucktoothed Winnie said, "Well, I don't see. At least you had things you could put in boxes. Me, I wasn't left with hardly anything when my folks died." {And, now, standing in a dress, she'd lost something that she had thought could never be taken from her.} Tammy said to her, "That is the point, Winnie. As terrible as it is to lose your past, and the people you knew, you have to move on." Steve got his strength back, putting his hands on his thighs. Standing up, he said, "It's called life, Winnie! There's a reason we're called survivors. And that's what we must do." Winnie was disappointed in the answer, "That's what I did as a foster kid. I had started to think I could do more than just that." {In all of the cartoons she'd seen, survivors on deserts and islands didn't have anything covering their legs, either.} Tammy said, "That's because your life had gained a normalcy when you were adopted, Winnie. You knew about what to expect from one day to the next." {Winnie noted Tammy's pink, shiny skirt was longer than her own.} Winnie, in somebody else's hair, said, "Well, I want that normality back. I don't know what to expect as a girl." Her father told her, walking towards her, "When you do, that's when we will have normalcy back. A new normalcy, to match our new lives." When the tall man got to the small girl, he knelt down to be on her eye-level, "But it's going to be a while; at least a couple of months." {He felt the urge to put his hand around her waist, and give her a reassuring squeeze.} Winnie yelped, "Months!?" Tammy was also closer to her little sister, "That's what the books say. I know it seemed to take that long to think of a man, mom's dad, Bub, as our new mom." Winnie said, "I guess this isn't the right time to talk about gender stereotypes." Steve reclaimed his little girl's attention by standing up, "And it's not going to be easy, this getting back to a normalcy. We're going to have to say good-bye to many old and familiar things." Tammy tried to chuckle, "'Put them in boxes'?" {She was finding it a little hard to decide what to do with her hands.} Steve understood, but did not feel any amusement, "There will be things that will not want to remain in their boxes." Tammy told Winnie, "He means habits and ways of doing things." {Skirts usually didn't have pockets.} Winnie told her, "I know what he means. I'm not a total-" {Tammy noted Winnie's posture had, if anything, become even more like a boy's, even in a dress.} Jesse could be heard in the stairwell before she could be seen. "Dad! Dad! Uncle Charley has boxes full of girl stuff in them!!" Winnie cried, "More boxes!?!" {Her stance widened.} Tammy said, wryly, "We definitely have a theme going, here." {Hips wouldn't let you just let your hands hang at your sides.} An arm pressed up against her bust, the 13-year-old girl came bounding down the stairs, yelling, "One in our room, Winnie, is full of girl blankets and sheets!" {Her gingham skirt rose like a parachute when she jumped the over the last steps, clearing the short wall.} Her father was about to show his disapproval of how she'd come down the stairs, but the little girl next to him cried, "They even have to be different about those kind of things!?!" Tammy said, "You knew that." {Putting her hands together under her lower abdomen made her feel little too sisterly.} Winnie told her, "I knew. I've even lived with people who've had girls. I was told to stay out of their bedrooms. And I did. It was cootie country, just going near one." Jesse said, "Your skin's going to crawl, then, when you see the things in our room! There are cooties over every inch of them!" {To Jesse, it seemed as if the hairs on her legs were raising.} Winnie looked down the length of her blue ribbed jumper to her own bare legs; she said more to herself, "My skin can't take any more irritations." Tammy said, "Actually, I think having nothing on you legs takes away irritations." {Putting her hands on her female hips certainly felt... feminine.} Jesse, tugging on the skirt, told her big sister, "Wearing dresses are irritating! You and your semantics: I don't like it when anything touches my naked skin, no matter for how long, or lightly-Especially a breeze! And that's not the point." Steve Douglas stepped in, "The point is that we had to replace the things you had when you were boys." Winnie, bending her neck, as she crossed her bloused arms over ribbed jumper, said, glumly, "And if it's not for boys, it's got to be for girls." Jesse 'tossed' the skirt away: she didn't buy that; to the older people in the room, she appealed, "Haven't you heard of the unisex look!? It's the big fad, right now!" All-in-pink Tammy said, "That's just it; it's a fad. A fad is not normalcy." {Putting her hands around on her firm, round butt was out.} Her father nodded, "You are girls. And you're going to have to live like girls, so you can get the feel for being girls." Winnie said, "Even if that "feel" is cooties?" {Of course, the more she talked about cooties, the more she felt them.} Jesse told her, scowling at the others, "Forget it, Winnie. They want us to be infected with cooties." {Her hands were partially raised; her forearms on her resting on the flair of her pelvis.} Winnie said, "That's sick." {What was worse? Was the dress was, or wasn't?} Tammy tried to tell them, "Think of it as a sort of inoculation." {She made a note to make sure she had something to hold.} Spunky Winnie said, "Me and my friends already gave ourselves anti- girl shots." {She remembered how girls didn't seem to like being pinched.} Jesse, under her shoulder-length wig, agreed, "Me, too. All the boys that age did. Only it was too keep away cute, soft and smelly stuff." {And her forearms pressed against the least soft part of her body. But around in back, her ass stuck out.} Winnie said, "And that was just against being seen with somebody like that." {She could imagine what his old friends would say about Ernie, if Ernie could be seen with Winnie.} Soprano Jesse said, "Right! Now we're supposed to be cute," (Winnie got a bad taste in her mouth, "Cute!") "soft, and smelly." {Her slim hands moved up to her firm belly, and up towards her even softer breasts.} Tammy's left hand had risen to her right forearm as they'd been talking; despite herself, she was rubbing it like she had cooties. "Think of it as being exposed to chicken pox, then. The itching is bad, at first, but, then, you're not bothered by them any more." Winnie said, "Who are you trying to kid? The itching may go away, but we'll still have spots. That won't go away." Steve Douglas saw that Tammy wasn't getting through to them; "No; it may not go away. You could be girls the rest of your lives. Now, do you want to be afraid to be girls that long? What did you call them? 'Cute, soft, and, er, smelly cooties'? There are better places to put your worries." His stomach tightened. With all that had happened that day, he'd been able to get away from those thoughts. Jesse said, "There were better things to worry about when we were boys; but that didn't stop us from not wanting to be thought of as a girl." {Now every nerve ending wouldn't let him think he wasn't. Only his psychology interfered with her acceptance.} Tammy said, "I'd worry about not being thought of as a girl, now. What was the name of that girl you said had problems, Winnie, because she won't act like a girl?" {She put her hands on her hips, palms spread. It felt masculine enough.} Winnie squirmed, "Arlene Kapinsky." Her dad asked, "In the department store, I believe the lady clerks were telling you that you had to pay attention to what other girls think of you?" Jesse looked away by lowering her head. "Yes. They did." Her loose hair helped to hide her. Winnie reported, "They said for girls, it's more important what they think of you than what boys think." There was a noticeable change in her attitude as she'd backed off. Her fear of not fitting in was headed towards another peer group. Steve Douglas stared at Jesse, "Well?!" Jesse admitted, uncomfortably, "Yeah. Something like that." {In lowering her head, she was looking towards her new boobs.} Tammy said, "Now the, um, "cooties" are on the are on the other foot. Metaphorically speaking." {One hand was out, saved by a gesture.} Jesse's head snapped back up, "No, it isn't! What you're talking about is how girls are going to give us the cooties -Worst cooties!- if we don't do what they want us to do!" Steve Douglas asked, "Are these "cooties" going to be the "cute and soft" kind?" Jesse saw it coming, but had to say, "Uh... no." Her father said, "Then there are "worst cooties" for a girl who doesn't act like a girl?" Jesse had been the trapped, and knew it. Tammy said, "It's like I was trying to tell you. What worked as a boy, does not work when you're a girl. This whole cootie thing was your immature recognition of that." Winnie said, "You mean even as kids, we knew we had to be different." Tammy nodded, but not very vigorously, "Nature has given each gender a different role." Jesse made one last swipe from behind the bars, "I still like the unisex idea." +++ Winnie entered her bedroom, "Oh, gee, Uncle Charley, you really did take everything away." The only things remaining were the carpet, furniture and the stripped twin beds. Not even the curtains. And the five large cardboard boxes lying on the floor looked like they were for taking things out of. {It was a strange feeling for Winnie. In the place where Ernie didn't have to worry what he wore she felt less uncomfortable in girl's clothes because the room looked unfamiliar.} Uncle Charley rose from the desk's chair across from the door at the end of the upstairs' hall, and told her, "It's about time you people stopped your yammering, and came up to help. Now, get your keester over here and make your bed." As she came further inside, Winnie asked, "Are you allowed to talk to girls like that?" The red haired 72-year-old man said in a loud, firm voice, "I'm Henry Higgins!" Winnie stared, "Who?" Uncle Charley asked, "Haven't you seen "My Fair Lady", yet? "Pygmalion", even?" Winnie answered, "If you mean movies, I don't think they've come to television, yet." Uncle Charley said, "It means he was a louse to everybody. And Old 'enry was the hero!" Winnie said, "Being a louse can make you a hero? Can heroines be louses, too?" Uncle Charley told her, "No! They have to be Eliza Doolittles! Now, stop stalling, and help me make this room." Winnie said, "I wasn't stalling. I was learning. I'm supposed to get to know what to expect as a girl." {She was reminded that she was wearing a dress. She was wearing a dress. How many times could that be repeated before it would get monotonous, she wondered.} Uncle Charley took a folded sheet from one of the big boxes, "The first thing to expect is home work. Here!" Winnie said, "I expected that when I was a boy." (But she was wearing a dress.) Then she noted what was printed on the sheet, "What I wasn't expecting was to be sleeping on horses." Ernie's legal "mother" told her, "Look! You like horses." He'd pulled out a different sheet. Winnie went to her bed, near the corner furthest from the door, letting the sheet unfold, "You must be thinking of Chip and Robbie. Though I don't know what Jesse and Tammy think of westerns. Dad did say that if I could get good enough at being a girl, I could have a gun." Uncle Charley reacted to that, "A gun!?! Aren't you dangerous enough!?!" Winnie threw the sheet out over her bed, "I don't feel dangerous at all. Doubly as a girl." (When she bent forward, her dress got longer in the front. But shorter in the back.} Uncle Charley told her, "Take it from an old seadog who's been everywhere around the world, the only reason somebody needs a gun is because somebody else has got one. Which makes other people "need" one! More than one guy was thrown overboard for "needing" his gun." Winnie paused to look at him, "Did you ever throw anybody overboard?" {She remembered she had an orange stain on an inner thigh.} Uncle Charley said, "Naw! But I've jumped ship of them that wouldn't. Letting yourself be stuck cooped up with a guy who has to prove he's a man is just plain stupid." Winnie was about to say something, but, instead, turned to spreading the sheet out. Uncle Charley wouldn't let that pass, "What!?!" Winnie looked back over her shoulder at him, and asked, "You're Catholic, aren't you?" He said, "My name is O'Casey. What of it!?!" Winnie looked back to what she was doing, "Oh, nothing. I just thought of something Jesse would've thought of. -What is it with girls and horses, anyway?!" The faded sheet repeated two large blue pictures of the same horse galloping in puddles of water. Uncle Charley took the sheet in his hand over to the other bed, "It's a part of what girls are. It's like dolls!" {The print on that sheet looked like something out of a nursery rhyme.} Winnie put the sheet into place over the first corner, "Dolls are small." Uncle Charley dropped his sheet on the other bed's mattress. "Yeah, girls love small animals, too. Even their dogs have to fit on their laps. That is, when it's not a fancied-up poodle. Toy poodles are the perfect girl dog; but I suspect they prefer cats." Winnie straightened up as she thought, "Gee! I hope I still like Tramp. He's a big, hairy mutt." {Would Uncle Charley notice the dumb orange stain?} Uncle Charley told her, "Get back to making your bed!" Winnie started tucking corners, hospital-style. Uncle Charley stood over her, telling her, "I wouldn't worry about that mongrel. Girls have also got a soft spot for his type. I should know; I worked on enough tramp steamers!" {She thought to bend her knees a bit.} Winnie moved around the footboard to the far corner, "If you say so, Uncle Charley. But none of that tells me why I should like horses, now." {Uncle Charley wouldn't see the stain, now.} Uncle Charley humphed, from his side, and told her, "You're too young to know that." Winnie lifted the mattress, shoving the sheet corner under it; she told him, "How can I be too young, when girls younger than me like horses?!" {She was back to letting the dress go up in back because it was easier to just let it, now.} Uncle Charley told her, "Just because they know they like them, doesn't mean they know why they like them. If you want that answer, go ask your dad!" Winnie grumbled, letting the mattress drop around her folded sheet corner, "If it's one of those questions, I'd have better luck with Jesse." Uncle Charley looked across the unmade bed with the folded sheet on it, and out the door, "Speaking of whom: Where is the other one!?!" +++ Down in the room at the other end of the hall: Jesse looked at the boxes in Tammy's room, "Gee, this is like one of those sitcoms, where they can get whatever they need for a bit at the drop of a hat. Only we have to unpack the stuff." Tammy had found a box with sheets, covers and blankets. "I believe these came from some of the neighbors. Uncle Charley obviously asked them to donate what they could for the new girls that were going to live with us. Or, rather, him and dad." Barefoot Jesse had peeked inside one box, coming only as close as she had to; inside were some old clothes. Luckily, they seemed too small for her. "It's still too sitcom like; if they had old clothes to get rid of old clothes, why didn't they donate them sooner?" {Her free boobs shifted-again-under the dress's blouse.} Tammy found the sheets were too young, as she poked around inside the bedding box. "I don't know. Maybe it's as simple as saving it to be use by the first person that asked you, like relatives, or neighbors. Women can be like that. Think about baby showers." {As she stood bent over, with the pressure on her lumbar and her narrow waist, she was also aware of her breasts filling up her bra's cups.} Jesse leaned away from her box. "I'd rather not, thank you!" {Her boobs wanted to slide back; but more notable was how one of her buttocks acted when her weight was shifted onto its side.} Tammy decided that she wasn't anything for somebody past preteens, so she pulled out the top sheet. "I guess I'll be sleeping with a woman, tonight." {Her breasts dropped back into their cups.} Jesse was still frowning, "Don't you mean as a woman?" {She shifted as much weight as she could off of that cheek.} Tammy held up the sheet, letting it unfold itself as it fell loose, "No, with a woman. Snow White, to be exact." {Her weight was still focused near her lumbar, and so, her waist and hips.} It was a colorful Disney print with Snow White on it. And small woodland creatures. It was just too cute for Jesse; but, "At least it doesn't have dwarves on it." Tammy could almost force a chuckle, "Then I'd be sleeping with men." Jesse took her upper arms as if she felt a chill, "Don't even joke about things like that!" {She avoided having her boobs press together.} Tammy could not resist, "They'd be small men." Jesse was not amused, "Seven of them." {How could she still be damp? Wouldn't anything dry it up?} Tammy shook her head as she went to the one bed in the room, its headboard in the middle of the wall next to the door. "Six. I don't think you'd have to worry too much about Sleepy. ...And Dopey wouldn't know what to do. I'm sure you could handle him." Jesse almost left the room. But thought better of it, so she went to the chair in the corner across from the door, "Who said he'd be alone! If I remember that stupid cartoon right, they did everything together!" Tammy tossed the sheet out over the twin bed, "I like the version where the dwarves were named Monday, Tuesday..." {Never had she used her chest muscles so much, now that there were masses of flesh over them.} Jesse pivoted around, "One every day of the week!?!" {Hips!! Boobs were annoying, but hips were what really nagged her so she could not forget she was a girl, now.} Tammy smiled, "And Sunday wouldn't give you a day of rest." Jesse screamed, "Tammy!!" {She'd risen off of her bare heels, using her thighs.} Tammy found her sense of humor, "Jesse, ease up! It's just a fairy story. If you can't deal with make-believe, what's it going to be like when you meet a real "dwarf"?" {She actually put a hand on a hip, while the other one was casually down around her thigh in back.} Her arms firmly crossed over her bust Jesse fell back into the upholstered chair, "I'm not going to "meet" any dwarf. If they want me, they're going to have to come and find me." {Hips, and thighs!) Tammy turned back towards the sheet, "I think that's the way it usually works." {Women's hips moved before a man's would.} Her arms remained over her bust, "No, I mean it: I'm going to become a hermit." {She had no bra on underneath. The longer she let her arms remain over her chests, the more she trouble she had staying calm.} Tammy spread the sheet out, "You know Dad's not going to let you do that. Or Uncle Charley." {Again, she felt her movement in her lumbar and breasts.} Taking the arms of the chair, Jesse grumbled, "I know. But I like the idea." Tammy started putting the elastic contour corners around the mattress corners, "Then tell everybody you plan on becoming a nun." Staring at the bust, Jesse grumbled some more, "A girl hermit. If you're supposed to give up sex as a nun, why do you have to be called something that tells everybody what sex you are?" Continuing around the bed, fitting the sheet, Tammy told her, "And wear outfits that won't get you confused with male celibates. I guess people aren't supposed to forget that nuns are women even when the nuns are supposed to." Jesse frowned, "I bet they have a logical reason for that. I wouldn't know. We're not Catholic. So, I guess I can't even tell people I'm going to become a nun." Two corners still loose, Tammy sat on the bed, and said to Jesse, "If you really are serious, Dad was talking about sending you to a parochial school." The End of this installment Background: Steven Douglas's father-in-law, an old vaudevillian, came to live with the family after the death of Edith. He was called "Bub" because at the time little Chip couldn't say "Grandpa". (I know, but that's the story.) Within a year after Ernie came to live with the Douglas's, 79-year-old Bub died on his way to fulfill a dream and visit the Old Sod. (Winnie, of course, secretly blames herself for that.) Just as the grieving was over with and the family was trying to get their lives back to normal without a housekeeper, Charley 0'Casey, between ships, dropped by to visit his brother. Only then did he find out about his death. Liking things ship-shape, the old salt decided to clean the pigsty up. Only when they showed that they had appreciated him (despite his rough edges), did he realize that his vagabond days were past him, and, at 72, this was his one last chance to have a home.