A black flannel dress, black cotton slip and bloomers, and black cotton stockings with something I couldn't even describe to hold them up, and black Mary Jane shoes, I became nauseous, I was so afraid of what was about to happen.A black flannel dress, black cotton slip and bloomers, and black cotton stockings with something I couldn't even describe to hold them up, and black Mary Jane shoes, I became nauseous, I was so afraid of what was about to happen. But I gathered my courage and went out to face my mother. "I'm not going to wear those clothes. I'm a boy, and ...." WHACK!! I received a slap across the face that sent me reeling. "You ARE going to wear those clothes, and you ARE going to do the housework around here from now on. AND anything else I want you to do, Prunella. You're no more boy than I am. Maybe I can make a decent girl out of you with some proper training. Now, get moving!" I retreated to my room, terrified. I knew that she wasn't kidding, and while she could be nice at times, she could also be terrible when angered. What was I going to do? I looked at the awful clothes and shuddered, but decided I had better put them on. I didn't need any more slaps, and besides, I thought no one will see me in them except mother. That thought almost brought tears to my eyes. What kind of boy was I that caused his own mother to embarrass him by putting him in a dress! I was beside myself as I stripped and dressed in the "almost" feminine attire. The mirror revealed something right out of Dickens, and I had to wonder why she had chosen this garb to humiliate me with. When mother saw me coming out of my room she had to choke back a laugh, and I thought she might relent, but, no way. She gave me instructions of what she wanted done and how to do it and away I went with dust mop and broom and gloomy thoughts of my future. |