What to do about Sandy?

Helen Manotti had tried everything – roughhousing, spending hours playing catch, Little League, even a martial arts class. The last ended when she found him in tears over the idea of possibly hurting someone. Since then, she’d twice had to collect him from school with wet pants because he was afraid to use the boys’ room. The first time someone told him there were giant roaches in it. The second time it was spiders eating the roaches. Helen put him in pull-ups to avoid further embarrassment, and he’d wet them more than once. In the end, home schooling seemed the only choice.

Along with home schooling, Helen decided that Sandy needed to start taking some responsibility around the house. He was given list of chores. While the weather was bad, these were be indoor jobs like dusting, dishwashing and simple laundry, but he was told that, come spring, outdoor tasks would be added.

It was a lovely spring day and she’d decided to take his lessons out under their backyard maple. Sandy wouldn’t sit on the grass without a towel under him because there were “things crawling in it.” That was when Helen finally decided he was a hopeless sissy, and protecting him from reality wasn’t doing him a favor. If you have lemons, make lemonade, she mused. During Sandy’s afternoon nap, she worked on a project using a photo of him, catalogue cut-outs and a post it glue stick.

The next day, they were under the maple when a caterpillar dropped on him. He started screaming and dancing around hysterically until she caught him, brushed it off and held him tight. By then he had wet himself.

She led him to the bathroom and laid him on the counter, where she removed his wet shorts and stained underpants. As she cleaned him up with baby wipes, she said, “Sandy you’re a complete sissy. Only a little girl would act like you just did. I’ve been negligent letting you get away with it. Starting now, each time you act like a girl, you’ll dress a little more like a girl so you can see just what a sissy you are.”

“I’m not a sissy. I’m just scared of bugs.”

Helen silently led the half naked boy to her craft room. “I’m putting this poster on your bedroom wall. It will help you decide what kind of girls’ things you want. Here, in the middle, is you.” She showed him his face and body with a tee shirt, underpants, shorts, and shoes pasted to it. She removed his shorts and underpants and placed them on the left to reflect his current state of dress. “Here, on the right, are cutouts of girls’ clothes, hair and accessories you can choose from. Now choose the girl’s item you want, and then you can put the appropriate boys’ clothes back.”

“I’m a boy. I don’t want girl’s clothes.” Tears were forming in his eyes. A funny feeling started inside of him as he looked over the clothes on the poster, imagining for the first time that he might be wearing them.

“I know you want to be a little girl because that’s how you act. Of course, you don’t have to choose. I can choose for you. Here’s a lovely pink dress you might like and here’s a tunic and Capri set you’d look darling in. Now do you want me to choose, or will you tell me what you want to wear.”

Sandy went to the poster and pasted tops, shorts and shoes over his body, trying to decide what would look less girly. Finally, he said, “Panties.” No one could see them under his boy clothes.

“‘Panties’ is not a sentence. Now tell me in a complete sentence what you want to wear.”

“I don’t want to wear anything.”

“You can’t go around nude. I think you’d look pretty in a tunic and Capri set, don’t you? Last chance, is there anything you want to wear for mommy?”

“I want to wear panties.”

“That’s better. The only problem is that I don’t have your size panties because I never thought you’d want to wear them. So, we need to buy some.”

“Can’t you just buy them while I stay home?”

“I could, but then I might get a kind you wouldn’t like.”

“I’d like any kind of panties, mommy, really,” the frightened boy said without thinking.

“Well, that’s good to know, but if you’re going to be wearing panties, it’s best if you learn about the various kinds.”

“I’m scared. People will laugh at me if they see me buying panties.”

“You’re always scared. Are you so scared that mommy should put you in pull-ups?”

Sandy gave it serious thought. He was almost that scared. He imagined wetting himself while panty shopping as everyone laughed. Still, wearing pull-ups at age 8 made him feel like a sissy. “I don’t know,” he said half to himself.

“Well, if you don’t know, better safe than sorry. Go potty, put on a pull-up and shorts, and come right back.” He relaxed. It was much nicer when mommy decided for him.

Helen drove to a shopping center near their home. When they arrived she told him, “If you behave and don’t complain, I may buy you a new toy. If you misbehave, not only will you not get your toy, I’ll buy you the frilliest dress I can find. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good, now hold my hand and stay near me. I don’t want you wandering off.” Sandy felt like a toddler holding his mother’s hand – a feeling reinforced by the pull-up under his shorts. He was scared, even though he didn’t know what he was scared of. He was happy Helen held his hand reassuringly.

Helen grabbed a cart and pushed it against the flow of exiting shoppers. Among them, Sandy saw Steve Rudger, 9, a boy from his former school, coming towards him, holding a bag. “How sweet, baby San-dee, holding mommy’s hand like a good little sissy. Are you wearing your pull-up, baby?” Sandy’s face flushed with embarrassment. He was about to make a rude remark when he felt his mother’s hand tighten.

“None of your business, Stevie,” he said in a polite tone. His mother didn’t know Steve hated to be called “Stevie.”

Just as things were about to escalate, Steve’s mother came up. “Steve, leave that little girl alone. I don’t know what you said, but it obviously embarrassed her.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along toward the exit.

“I’m proud of you, Sandy.” He’d gotten away with tweaking “Stevie,” but came out on the short end by being called a girl by his mother. Could Steve really tell he was wearing a pull-up? Mommy was right, he was a sissy.

“Mom, Steve’s mom thought I was a girl.”

“That’s because you act like a girl.” Meanwhile she’d pushed her cart though the girls’ department to the underwear shelves. Helen looked at a sizing chart, then at the selections and prices. Sandy thought she’d choose without him, but once she found several packages that suited her budget, she handed them to him to select which panties he wanted. “OK, Sandy choose. Which do you like best?”

“Can’t I have boy’s underpants?”

“No, you told me you wanted panties. Where you lying? The longer you put off choosing, the longer we’ll be here. Now pick some and tell me why you like the ones you choose.”

At first he just wanted to throw a package in the cart choose as quickly as possible. Then he realized that he’d be wearing whatever he chose, and surprised Helen by looking carefully at each of five or six packages. He rejected the package of floral print panties. “These are too girly.” A package of nine had two pair with butterfly prints. ”I like the butterflies on these, mommy.”

“So, you want to wear what is in this package?” He did not notice that the nine panties came bundled with 4 camisoles.

“Yes, mommy,” he said quietly.

Helen felt she’d stressed Sandy enough and was proud of his lack of complaint. He was very relieved when they left girls’ clothing and headed for toys. Sandy had some Lego Sets, but had never played with them. Helen saw the “Friends” series of Legos for girls, and put the Heartlake City Pool and Andrea’s Bedroom sets in their cart. Sandy didn’t complain, as he didn’t want to upset his mother. On the way to check out, an end cap had Jr. Miss Makeup Sets for ages 7 to 10. Helen took one.

When they got home, she asked, “Honey, did you wet your pull-up while we were shopping?”

“No, mommy. I almost did a couple of times, like when I saw Steve Rudger and when I was choosing the panties.”

“I’m proud of you. You’re too big to be wearing pull-ups and they’re going in the trash along with your old underpants. I expect you to keep your new panties clean and dry.”

Sandy blushed. “But, mommy, what if I get scared and wet?”

“That’s something a big boy wouldn’t do. If you wet, you will choose another item on your poster. Now pick a pair of panties and put them on.” He picked a mint green pair with red and magenta butterflies. They felt nice. Once he pulled up his shorts no one could tell he was wearing panties, so he relaxed and forgot about them.

Helen had ordered pepperoni pizza, and they watched a DVD of “Annie” as they ate. It was only 8:00 when the movie ended, but Sandy was exhausted. He usually slept in his underpants, but Helen gave him a camisole as well. It was plain with pink trim and a little bow at the neck.

“I don’t want to wear this, mommy.”

“When you chose your panties you said you’d wear what was in the package and this was in it.” Sandy felt cheated winding up with two items on the poster, but did not want to whine like a little girl. He put on his cami. Helen kissed him on the forehead and he went to sleep.

In the morning, Sandy came down to breakfast in his underwear, per usual. Helen reasoned he was a sloppy eater and there was less washing if he didn’t get dressed until after breakfast. His reason was he was he woke up hungry, and dressing only delayed eating. Of course, this morning his underwear was green panties and a pink trimmed cami. He didn’t seem to notice or mind, so breakfast went on as usual.

As Sandy was finishing his cereal, the doorbell rang. It was May Kowalski from across the street. May was a substitute teacher, and had a daughter, Shannon, 5-1/2, whom Helen watched when May worked. Sandy and Shannon got along well enough, though they usually played separately. She shared whatever treats her mother provided with Sandy. So she was one of the few children Sandy wasn’t scared of. Nor was it unusual for Shannon to come into the kitchen while Sandy was eating breakfast in his underwear.

“Hi, Sandy. Are you a girl today?” she asked innocently. Sandy suddenly realized he was wearing a cami and panties.

“My mom says I’ve been acting like a girl, so she bought me these things,” said the blushing boy.

“Those are really pretty panties. All mine are plain colors. I wish I could have butterflies like you.” Sandy’d been worrying about being caught in girl’s clothes, so the idea of Shannon wishing she had such nice panties came as a surprise.

“Thanks. I chose these because I like butterflies.”

“You’re so lucky. My mom says I’m too little for print panties. Maybe when I’m six or seven, she said.

“So, you are a girl now, Sandy?”

“Sort of a girl, mommy says I’m a sissy.”

“A sissy! Will you be my sissy? I don’t have any brothers or sissies, so I’d really like to be sissies. Will you be, pretty pleeeze?”

Sandy had a kind heart and didn’t want to disappoint the little girl. “We could try it for today.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Shannon threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Helen had been listening in the dining room and now came into the kitchen. “Maybe Shannon would like to play with your new Legos?”

“What new Legos?”

“I bought you two new ‘Friends’ sets yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

“I guess my head was full of panties.”

“Well, I did. They’re on your dresser. Why don’t you put on blue shorts so Shannon and you match?”

“OK, mommy.”

“Mrs. Manotti?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I wear a cami like Sandy’s, then we’d really look like sissies?”

“If Sandy’s willing to share. Sandy, may Shannon wear one of your new camisoles?”

“Yes, mommy.” For some reason, he was glad Shannon wanted to wear his things, and she was thrilled to be dressed like her new “big sissy.” Of course, the cami was big on Shannon, but then dress-up clothes often are.

Sandy was disappointed that his new Legos were girls’ sets, but, again, part of him was happy to have something to share with Shannon. At first, he played along with her imaginative stories about the Lego girls, but soon had ideas of his own. When Helen came with milk and cookies at 10:00, both were giggling and talking for the Lego dolls.

After they tired of Legos, they worked on Shannon’s Disney Princess coloring books until lunch. After their nap, Shannon wanted to play with Sandy’s sissy poster, dressing him in various ways, and saying how lucky he was his mommy wanted to get him such pretty clothes. Sandy had mixed feelings, but for the first time appreciated that the cutout clothes looked nice, even if he didn’t want to wear them.

At 3:00, Shannon changed back into the top she came in and gathered her things. She gave Sandy a kiss, told him that he was “the bestest big sissy in the world” and looked sad to go. Shortly, May showed up and saw Sandy in his cami for the first time.

“Why is Sandy wearing a camisole?”

“Remember, I told you how hard I’ve been trying to help him be more manly. Nothing’s worked. So now when he’s girlish, he has to choose a girl’s item to show how feminine he acts. It’s not a punishment, just helping him see the meaning of his behavior.”

“It’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”

“Well, yesterday, Sandy screamed like a girl and wet himself because a caterpillar fell on him. What would you have done? I let him choose a girl’s item he wanted to wear, and he chose panties. When we bought them, he chose a package with nine panties and four camis.”

“So, he’s wearing panties too?”

“Show Ms. Kowalski, Sandy.” The embarrassed boy pushed down his shorts until his panties showed. Despite herself, May could not help laughing.

“Is it doing any good?” May asked.

“I don’t know that it’s helping him be more of a boy, but he was certainly nicer to Shannon today. Instead of just ignoring her, they played and giggled all day today.”

“Is that right Shannon?”

“Yes, mommy. We had the mostest fun. Sandy is my big sissy now!” she beamed.

“It’s definitely weird, Helen, but it seems to be turning out well. So I guess it is OK.

“Look, Helen, they want me for the rest of the week, maybe longer. Could you watch Shannon? I’ll pay you.”

“Shannon’s such a doll, there’s no need to pay me. Maybe I’ll ask a favor later?”

“That’d be lovely. Thank you so much.” With that May and Shannon left.

“Sandy, did you have a good time with Shannon today?”

“Yes, mommy. I really did. She pretended we were sisters. I was the big sister and got to decide what to do. I liked that … I mean being looked up to, not being a sister.”

“You could have played with her like that last week, before you started wearing panties.”

“It didn’t seem right. I mean boys don’t play with little girls like that.”

“But, today you did.”

“Well, I was wearing my cami, and Shannon wanted to dress like me. It seemed natural, not like I was a boy playing girl games.”

Helen mused that whatever the reason, dressing as a girl was making Sandy a happier child. “Whatever it was, I’m proud at you for being a good big sister and making Shannon happy. By the way, if you want, you can take off your cami and put on a tee-shirt.”

“I wore it all day. There’s no point in changing now.”

“OK, sweetie.”

Things went smoothly until Helen asked him to put the scraps in the trash after dinner. “Eeek! Oh, oh!” The panicked boy screamed. His mother turned to see him wetting his shorts.

“What is it?”

“A mouse! A mouse!” Looking, she saw a dead mouse in the trap she’d placed by the wastebasket. Sandy was breathless and shaking.

“It’s dead, dear. It won’t bite. You’re acting like a little girl again.”

“I don’t care. Take it away! Take it away!”

She held Sandy by the shoulders, and turned him toward her, holding him until he calmed down. “Sandy, I’m going to give you a chance to be a big boy. If you do what I say, you can stop wearing panties. But if you don’t you’ll have two girl items to add to your wardrobe. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mommy,” said the breathless boy.

“OK, if you pick up the trap and the mouse and throw them in the outside trash, you can go back to boy’s clothes.”

“Pick up the mouse!?”

“Yes. So, do you want to be a big boy or a sissy?”

“I don’t want to touch it!”

“You do not have to touch it. You can use a paper towel to grab it. OK?”

“No, I don’t want to touch it. I’ll wear a dress. Don’t make me touch it. Please!”

Helen was furious. What would her dead husband think of how she was raising his son? She’d given Sandy a chance to stop being a sissy, and he’d rather wear a dress. Disgusted, she picked up the trap by its edges and threw it out. She felt like spanking him and humiliating him by parading him in public in his wet shorts. Fortunately, her maternal instincts were stronger than her anger. She remembered how sweet Sandy’d been with Shannon, and decided that “manning him up” was hopeless. It was best to let him be a sissy and see what good might come of it. By the time she was changing him on the bathroom counter, the peak of her anger had passed. Still, she couldn’t help thinking of him as a baby girl. Maybe she should put him back in diapers – he’d wet himself twice this week. Maybe it was just her anger and disappointment urging her to humiliate him. She’d decide when she was calmer.

Either way, she already had a plan to deal with his sissy behavior. Here were two new acts. The first had been spontaneous, and might be forgivable, but the second had been a deliberate choice to wear a dress rather than be manly.

“You said you wanted to wear a dress. I can get you one and something else for screaming and wetting like a little girl, or I can let you off with some shorts and top sets – including a skirt. Do you really want a dress?”

“No, mommy. I just didn’t want to touch the mouse. I’ll wear the shorts and tops.”

“You know that one of the shorts will be a short skirt?”

“Yes, mommy.” Sandy’s heart was racing. He was scared of someone seeing him shopping for girls’ clothes. Still, after playing big sister to Shannon, he was curious to see how it would feel to dress more girlish. A skirt was both repulsive and strangely alluring. Wearing one would cross a line boys didn’t.

Helen left him in his cami and added denim shorts. He felt very self-conscious leaving the house for the first time in girls’ clothes. His clothes might have let him pass for a girl, but he’d combed his hair like a boy and looked very much a sissy. They went to Ross instead of the big box store where they’d bought his panties. Helen explained about colors and sent him find three pair of inexpensive girls’ shorts and coordinating tops while she watched from a distance.

The store wasn’t crowded. Still, at least three other mothers and daughters were looking through the same section. While two simply stole glances and whispered, a husky girl his age watched him unabashedly while her mother wondered off to women’s wear.

“I never saw a boy shopping for girls’ shorts. Are they for you? Nice cami, by the way.” Her tone was friendly and not mocking. Nevertheless, he felt like a deer caught in headlights as he held a pair of pink knit shorts.

“Yes. They are. I’m a sissy. I mean I’m afraid of things boys aren’t supposed to be and scream like a girl a when bugs get on me. My mom said since I act like a girl, I should dress like one. Tonight I screamed about a dead mouse in the pantry. I wouldn’t pick it up and take it out when she asked me. So, now I have to buy myself three sets of tops and shorts.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her, but she seemed nice and his story seemed to come out almost by itself.

“Do you mind? Wearing girl’s clothes I mean?”

“They seem nice enough. I just don’t want people laughing at me.”

“Then why did you comb your hair like a boy? The rest of you could be a girl, but not your hair.”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“May I fix it?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’re a very polite boy, sissy. Do you have a name?” She said as she gave him a feminine hairstyle by parting his hair in the middle and combing his bangs forward.

“Sandy.”

“Hi, Sandy. I’m Joanne. Do you want to show me what you picked out so far? One of the fun things about being a girl is shopping together. Do you mind if I shop with you?”

Sandy looked two aisles over to his mother, who feigned disinterest. “I, I guess it would be OK as long as you don’t make fun of me.”

“Oh, I won’t. You’re too interesting to make fun of. So, what have you picked out?”

“I found these blue shorts with brass buttons, and this white and blue striped top to go with them.”

“That’s a scooped neck tank top and it really does go with the shorts. You have good taste for a boy,” she said with a reassuring smile. “What else?”

“I was looking at these pink shorts. I know boys aren’t supposed to like pink, but they’re such a happy color. I mean if I’m going to wear girls’ clothes anyway, why not? But, I can’t find any pink tops to go with them.”

“Things don’t have to be the same color to coordinate. They can be contrasting. You know about the primary colors: red, yellow and blue?”

“Yeah. I mean yes. We studied them in school.”

“Well, that pink is a red tone, and so a mix of blue and yellow is a contrast. Blue and yellow make green, so let’s see if there’s a green top to go with your pink shorts.” Joanne found a lime and white print crop top with little pink buds. “How about this?”

“That looks great together! Thank you, Joanne! You’re right! It’s fun to shop with a friend. Do you want to be my friend? Someone might laugh at you for having a sissy friend.”

“You’re not a sissy friend, Sandy. Just a friend.” Sandy felt warm inside. No one had ever called him a friend before. Truth be told, Joanne was often made fun of because of her weight, and was equally happy to find an accepting friend.

“Well, I need to get one more set, then have my mom help me find a skirt,” he blushed.

“None of your tops have sleeves. How about we start with a top this time, and find shorts to go with it?”

“I never thought of that.”

“That’s why you need a shopping buddy, Sandy. I saw an embroidered white top I would have bought, but they didn’t have it in my size. I think you’ll love it. … Here, do you like it?”

“The embroidery is so pretty. I love the green leaves and pink flowers. I really must be a sissy!”

“Who cares! If you like it, get it!”

“OK. I will. Now I need white shorts to go with it.”

“Not so fast! I don’t want to embarrass you, but do you wear colored panties?”

Sandy blushed deeply and nodded.

“Well, colored panties will show right through most white shorts, so you need to be careful. Your blouse is a western style. You could wear it with denim shorts like you have on.”

“I don’t think my mom will let me wear these – they’re not very girly.”

“Trust me, there are lots that are.” She led him to a rack of denim shorts and found a embroidered pair that went with the blouse.

“OK. That’s three sets. I have to go show my mom. Thanks for helping,” he said sadly as he pushed his cart toward his mom.

“Can’t you introduce me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I do if you want me for a friend.”

“Oh. I do!”

“Alright then.”

Sandy introduced Joanne to his mother, saying how she helped him. Helen explained that while he was shopping, she’d found Sandy a lilac mid-calf skirt and white cap-sleeve blouse. He needed to try on their selections, as some were not returnable. Joanne asked if she could see him model his new things. Surprisingly, Sandy wanted her opinion. Nonetheless, he blushed when he emerged from the dressing room in his embroidered blouse and denim short-shorts. He relaxed when Joanne said how cute he looked.

The last outfit he tried was the skirt and blouse his mother had selected. Joanne loved it, but thought his Nikes spoiled the effect.

Helen agreed. “You’d look much nicer with proper shoes, dear. Would you mind if I got you a pair?”

“No, Nikes look silly with a skirt.” Joanne asked if she could bring a pair she’d seen and returned with black Mary Janes.

It was nearly closing, so they rushed to check out with Sandy still in his skirt, blouse and Mary Janes. The checker was unsure of Sandy’s gender, but only said, “Enjoy your purchases.” Outside, Joanne and Maria Sanchez were waiting for the Manottis. Introductions were made, phone numbers exchanged, and a tentative play date was set for the following Saturday. It was not clear if Mrs. Sanchez realized Sandy was a boy.

It was way past Sandy’s bedtime when he got home. Still, he took a minute to look in the mirror. With the hairstyle Joanne had given him, and dressed in his skirt, shear blouse, cami and Mary Janes, he looked more girl than boy. So far, dressing as a girl had been a positive experience – first with Shannon and now with Joanne. He twisted back and forth, enjoying the feeling of his skirt caressing his legs. Pleased, he brushed his teeth and went to bed.

He slept well and woke early – in time to shower and dress for breakfast. He liked the colors of his new clothes so much that even if he went back to boys’ clothes, he’d wear bright colors from now on. He tried combing his hair as Joanne had, but couldn’t. Helen was surprised to see him come down to breakfast early and fully dressed. It was a shock to see him in pink shorts and a lime crop top, but she couldn’t help noticing how cheery he was. “Do you like your new clothes?”

“I must be a sissy, because I really do. These colors make me happy.” Helen could relate to that, because some of her clothes lifted her spirits, especially after Sandy’s father had been killed in Afghanistan.

“I just wish my hair looked better,” he continued.

“I could work on your hair, or I could make a salon appointment for you.”

“I’m not ready for a salon appointment. Couldn’t you just brush it like Joanne did last night?”

“I’ll see what I can do after breakfast.”

Because of his early start they finished before May and Shannon arrived, giving Helen time to cut his bangs and brush his hair into a feminine do.

As Helen cut his bangs, she wondered if she were doing the right thing. Clothes could be easily changed when Sandy realized he was a boy. Styling his hair seemed more of a commitment. This wasn’t working out as she’d planned. She’d thought putting him in girls’ clothes would make him realize what a sissy he was – and he’d react by becoming manlier. Instead, he seemed increasingly happy with his new clothes. In fact, he was happier than he’d been since his father died. She was glad to see him alive and energetic, but fretted over where dressing as a sissy would lead.

Sandy was watching Power Puff Girls when May arrived. She had a doctor’s appointment, and asked if Shannon could stay until 5:00 instead of 3:45. Helen readily agreed, and Sandy was glad to spend more time with his newfound little sister. Shannon complimented Sandy on his hair and clothes, but wanted to dress alike, so they both changed to camis. The day went much like the previous day, with the children laughing and giggling over Legos and coloring books. After their nap, Sandy tried jumping the rope Shannon had brought, getting more exercise than he had in quite a while. As the day wore on, Helen suggested a backyard tea party.

So it was that the children were having a tea party when Steve Rudger and his sidekick Evan Wilson came through the alley gate to make fun of Sandy.

“Gawd, I can’t believe what a sissy you are Manotti. Playing tea party with a 5-year-old girl! All dressed up in a girls’ top, pink shorts and pretty shoes. I always knew you were a wimp, but I never thought you were a fag!” By now Evan was laughing at Sandy. Sandy was too surprised to react. What could he say? He was dressed like a girl from the skin out, and he liked it. Shannon, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. She charged Steve, beating him with her fists.

“Leave my big sissy alone, you meanie! All you want to do is hurt people. Bully!” she shouted as she continued to rain blows on him. Steve wasn’t being hurt, but found her annoying and shoved her to the ground. Seeing Shannon attacked set something off in Sandy. You might call it manly resolve, or you might call it maternal instinct. Either way, Steve was going to be sorry. Using the one move he’d learned in martial arts, Sandy gave Steve a karate blow to the solar plexus that doubled him over gasping for air. Shannon, who was still on the ground, saw Steve wetting himself.

“Baby Stevie needs a diaper,” she taunted. “Go home and have your mommy change you, Betsy Wetsie!”

Evan now started laughing at Steve, who ran off in fear and humiliation at being bested by an 8-year-old sissy and wetting himself. Sandy turned toward Evan, who was barely 8, and smaller. “I’m sorry I laughed, really!” he said as he ran for home.

Helen had been upstairs when she heard Steve bullying Sandy and had hurried down to protect her charges. She reached the back door just as Steve shoved Shannon. She was stunned to see her sissy boy deck the much bigger Steve. Something was not quite right with this picture. Here was Sandy, who only a few days before had become hysterical and wet himself over a caterpillar landing on him, fearlessly attacking a much huskier boy 3” taller. She watched in silence as first Steve, and then Evan, ran off with their tails between their legs.

Sandy stood shaking as Shannon hugged him and told him what a good big sissy he was. “I’m sorry mommy. I know that fighting is no way to settle things. I just couldn’t let Steve hurt Shannon.”

“You did just the right thing. I’m very proud of you” -- and she was. Still, she was totally confused as to what kind of boy her son was. He was very much a sissy, but clearly, that was not all there was to him.

That night Mrs. Sanchez called to say that Joanne was signed up for a beginner’s sewing class Saturday morning. It would last two weeks and each girl would make herself a sundress. Would Sandy like to go with her? After being seen by Steve and Evan, Sandy no longer feared people knowing he was a sissy. The feeling was very liberating. Learning to sew like a girl, and better, making his own dresses, excited him.

Sandy was wearing his embroidered blouse and shorts when Mrs. Sanchez picked him up. The class would be two hours, and he and Joanne were partners. They learned to make measurements, select a pattern, and find a suitable fabric. He picked out a bright bird and flower print, while Joanne found a rose print that complemented her skin tone. As he was having his yardage cut, Sandy decided to buy enough to make a matching dress for Shannon. By the end of class, they’d cut all the pattern pieces.

Maria took them out for burgers. Joanne had a diet coke and Sandy had the same to be supportive. They showed Maria their patterns and fabrics and talked about how they’d look in their dresses. Sandy said he wanted to see how a sundress would feel. Maria was surprised that he’d never worn one before.

“Boys don’t get to wear sundresses, so this’ll be my first,” he said innocently.

“Boys? Are you a boy, Sandy!?” Maria said, raising her voice involuntarily. Joanne tried to signal him to say he was a girl, but failed to catch his eye.

“Yes, I was getting my first girls’ clothes when I met Joanne.”

“It is a sin for boys to wear girls’ clothes. Doesn’t your mother know anything?” With that she started in on Joanne in rapid and excited Spanish. Soon Joanne was crying and yelling at back her mother in Spanish. Finally, Maria reined her temper in. “I am sorry I made a scene, but it is a sin for boys to act like girls, and I can’t let Joanne see you again. Come along, I’ll take you home.”

By now both children were in tears, but Maria was unrelenting. She drove Sandy home, but did not get out of the car. As soon as he was in the door, she drove off with Joanne.

When he told his mother what happened, she cursed Maria as a bigoted bitch. He stared at her in wide-eyed amazement. He’d never seen her so angry or heard her using such foul language. Finally, she calmed down. “Sandy, it’s not a sin to wear whatever makes you happy. Maria comes from a very conservative culture, and doesn’t have any idea of what God really likes. I’m sure He loves you more and more everyday, just as I do. What’s really sad is loosing Joanne as a friend.”

“I miss her already,” Sandy said as tears rolled down his cheeks.

After they gathered themselves, Helen asked how the sewing class had gone. He showed her his pattern and what he’d accomplished so far. He also showed her the extra fabric to make Shannon a matching dress. Again, she was impressed by her son’s sweetness and consideration.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going back to that sewing class. How about I show you how to use the sewing machine, and help you finish your dress? Maybe tomorrow we can work on Shannon’s?”

“That’d be great, Mommy.”

Helen showed him how to thread the machine and practice sewing straight seams on scraps of fabric. When he finally sewed his dress, he sewed one panel wrong side up, and had to pull the threads. After that, things went easily. He was very excited by having made his very own dress and put it on immediately – twirling back and forth.

“Mommy, there were so many pretty fabrics at the store. I want to make lots more dresses! Can I?”

“Sandy, can I ask you something. Do you want to be a girl?”

“Why would I want to be a girl?”

“Lots of reasons – like you could wear beautiful clothes, marry a nice man.”

“I don’t want to marry anyone. I don’t even like any boys I know. I like Shannon and Joanne – they’re ever so much nicer than any boy.” His eyes watered thinking of Joanne. “Also, I get to wear pretty clothes now. I like being a sissy. Is that OK?”

“Yes, sweetie.” She gave him a hug and a kiss, but secretly worried.

“So, can I make more dresses?”

“As long as you wear them.”

“Thanks, mommy. Can we get more patterns and fabrics after we do Shannon’s dress tomorrow.”

“We’ll see if there’s time.”

Things went smoothly for the next two weeks. May worked regularly and Shannon was thrilled to have a dress that matched her big sissies’. Eventually, Joanne started bicycling over after school a few days a week. Sandy and she accepted each other as they were and became fast friends.

Evan came by to apologize. Helen invited him in. He was no longer paling around with Steve Rudger. In fact, he’d told Steve if he wanted what happened kept quiet, he’d better leave Sandy alone. He also said Sandy was very brave to wear what he liked. Sandy forgave him and they parted friends, but nothing further came of it because they had few common interests.

One thing that happened was that the house next door got new tenants – a forty-ish car salesman and his twenty-something girlfriend. They stayed to themselves, but Sandy often saw her from his bedroom – bulging out of her bikini as she sun bathed in her backyard. He hoped she was using sun block – otherwise she was asking for skin cancer.

Saturday morning the second week they were there, there was a knock on the door. A thin boy stood looking down when Sandy answered the door. “Ah … my dad’s girlfriend, Alison … she said there was a kid here my age. I should play with him,” he said without looking up.

“How old are you?”

“Eight ... and a half,” he said looking up for the first time and seeing Sandy in one of his new sundresses.

“Well, so am I. We can play if you like. Do you want to come in and have a cookie?”

“I guess so.” Uncertainly, the boy followed Sandy to the kitchen.

“Please sit down. Do you want milk with your cookie? I’m Sandy Manotti, by the way, and this is my mom. What’s your name?”

“Yes, please. I’m Paul O’Malley. My dad moved in next door. This is my weekend to visit him, but he’s working and Allison is too busy to watch me. She told me to go and find someone to play with. She said you were a boy.”

“I am.”

“But, you’re wearing a dress.”

“Yes, I made it myself,” said Sandy doing a twirl. “Do you like it?”

For the first time, Paul looked closely at Sandy and his dress. “Yes, it’s really nice ...”

“Thanks.”

“… but, if you’re a boy, why are you wearing a dress?”

“Because I like dresses, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yours is pretty, but I never thought boys wore them.”

“Anybody can wear what they want, if they really want to. Don’t you think?”

“I never thought about it.”

“Well, now you have. How’s your cookie?”

“It’s delicious.”

“My mom and I made them yesterday,” said Sandy as he bit into his own.

“You’re very different, Sandy.”

“I’m a sissy. If you don’t want to play with me, I’ll understand.”

“No, I like you. It just takes a while to get used to a boy wearing a dress.”

“I understand. Do you want another cookie to finish your milk with?”

“Yes, please. I wish my mom made cookies with me. Right now, she can’t stand males. She says I remind her of my dad. So, she doesn’t talk to me much.”

“Whatever your dad did is not your fault, Paul,” said Helen.

“I wish she knew that.”

“I’m sure she does in her heart, but it might take her a while to realize it. Why don’t you two go play now.”

Sandy led Paul up to his room. “Do you want to play Monopoly or Yahtzee? I have Legos, and my mom got me a jewelry making set. You could make your mom earrings, a bracelet or a necklace.”

“Could I?”

“Yep, here’s a necklace I made,” said Sandy putting on a coral necklace. “It was easy.”

“Sandy. Could I ask you? … Um, what’s it like to be a sissy? At school when kids get called a sissy, it’s an insult … but you seem so nice.”

“Well, I used to be afraid of everything, like I’d scream if a bug got on me. My mom said boys don’t behave like that, and started dressing me in girl’s clothes cuz I was acting like a girl. But, when I started wearing girls’ things, I started being happier. I made more friends, too, because I wasn’t trying to be what people thought I should be. I’m not even afraid of bugs as much as I used to be.”

“So, wearing dresses makes you happier?”

“Yeah, it does. And since I make my own, I can wear whatever color I like.”

“I’m not very happy, Sandy. Do you think wearing a dress would make me feel happier?”

“I don’t know Paul. Everyone is different. It might just make you feel silly.”

Paul played with the jewelry set a while, looking at the various beads and fittings in a halfhearted way.

“Would you let me see?”

“See what?”

“If … if wearing a … a dress would make me feel happier?”

“You want me to loan you a dress?”

Paul was blushing furiously. “Yes, please.”

“Well, I loan camis to Shannon when she visits, so I guess I could loan you a dress. Which one would you like?” he said, opening his closet.

“How about the yellow one with the butterflies. That looks happy.”

“Sure. Do you want to wear panties under it?”

“Panties?”

“You know, girls’ underpants.”

“Do you wear them?”

“They were the first thing my mom gave me when she started dressing me in girls’ clothes. Do you want a pair?”

“Yes, please.”

“Here. You can change in my closet. I won’t look.”

In a couple of minutes a very red-faced Paul emerged from the closet in a yellow sundress.

“Well, do you like wearing it?”

“It feels different. Even the panties feel different.”

“Here, give it a little twirl back and forth to see how it feels on your legs,” said Sandy, illustrating.

“That feels strange, but nice.”

“Look in the mirror and see how you look.”

“We look like 2 girls, except my hair isn’t right.”

“I’ll make you some pigtails and tie them with yellow ribbons to match your dress ...”

“Now I really do look like a girl.”

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, but I keep thinking boys shouldn’t wear dresses.”

“OK, then take it off.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, but you need to make up your mind. Do you want to wear it or not.”

“OK, I will, for a little while. It makes me feel nice inside.”

“OK. So, now that you’re dressed pretty, what would you like to do?”

“Can I still make something for my mom?”

“Sure. I’ll make something for my mom too.”

The boys had worked quietly for an hour, when Helen looked in to check on them. “Why is Paul wearing one of your sundresses?”

“Because he wanted to see how it felt, and he likes it.”

“You shouldn’t be loaning your clothes to boys, Sandy.”

“Why not, Shannon wears my camis all the time.”

“Well she’s a girl, so it’s OK.”

“But, I’m a boy, and you said it s OK for me to wear dresses.”

“I’m your mother. I’m not sure Paul’s mother wants to let him wear dresses.”

“Maybe she would. She’s not very happy I’m a boy.”

“I’m just afraid people will think I like putting boys in dresses. I don’t want any trouble.”

“You didn’t do it, and I won’t tell anybody I was wearing a dress. Can I please keep it on till I have to go home?”

Helen was running out of things to say. “Well, I don’t see what more harm can come of leaving it on. Just be sure to take it off in plenty of time to go home – and don’t put any makeup on.”

“Thanks, Mrs. M.” When she left, Paul asked, “Do you wear makeup too?”

“Just a little, but not usually. Mom says I’m too young to wear it daily.”

“Can I try some?”

“Not now, my mom just said no.”

“Next time I come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if you don’t leave it on long.”

Paul knew he’d be back to wear a dress again and see if he could try makeup.