“Found anything you like?” Mum asked when she returned,

carrying a bin bag in each hand.

“Not really.” I moaned,

before flicking back a few pages and pointing out a few things I didn’t mind so much.

“They’re a bit tom-boyish,” Mum said,

before pointing out what she liked.

“They’re too girlie.” I claimed.

“Nothing’s too girlie for my Sophie.” she replied as she turned the pages.

“All of these are pretty.” she said,

circling her index finger around the images of a selection of really prissy frocks.

I got the feeling that my mother wasn’t going to give me much say in what I was going to wear.

She seemed to have made her mind up as to what type of daughter I’d become…

I suspected ‘she’ was closer to Violet Butt from the Just William books than George, AKA Georgina, from The Famous Five.

“Let’s go and see how your new bedroom’s looking,” she said.

I followed her up the stairs and glanced in my old bedroom.

George and Andrew were in the process of putting all my books and comics in a box,

keeping to one side anything they wanted to keep.

George’s former bedroom was completely clear of all his things.

A bare mattress lay on the wooden bed frame.

A small bedside cabinet sat next to it.

Under the window is an old wooden chest of drawers,

and behind the door,

a tall narrow wardrobe.

“George, Andrew.” Mum hollered.

They both appeared at the door,

mum asked them to swap the wardrobe for the larger one in their room and to remove the chest of drawers too.

George wasn’t sure if the larger wardrobe would fit in the available space,

since he’s only just hung all his stuff in it,

didn’t want to empty it again.

“Well this isn’t going to be big enough for all Sophie’s dresses.” mum replied, casting a smile in my direction.

“He hasn’t got any yet,” George replied.

Andrew sniggered when mum corrected him with ‘she’, before telling him to find a tape measure to check if it will fit or not.

“Andrew, you can start taking all the drawers out of this,” she said, patting the top of the chest of drawers.

“It can go in the garage I suppose.”

“Isn’t Peter going to help?” he moaned as he began removing the empty drawers.

“I mean… Sophie,” he added after mum gave him one of those looks.

“No,” she replied.

“Girl’s don’t shift bulky furniture around, that’s a boy’s job.”

“Well, what’s he… she going to do?” Andrew asked.

“It’s not fair if we have to do everything just because we’re boys.”

“You don’t have to do ‘everything’… and Sophie will be helping me with the housework,” Mum replied.

“But first we need to make her bedroom nice, and get her some nice new clothes.”

Why my brother was feeling hard-done-by just because he and George had to move a few bits of furniture about I’ll never know.

I’d much rather be shifting furniture about than stand here watching my entire life being dismantled.

George returned with a tape measure and deduced that the bigger wardrobe wouldn’t quite fit between the door and the wall.

Mum suggested putting the wardrobe where the bed is, and moving the bed behind the door.

George measured the bed and the little chest of drawers and determined that they both wouldn’t fit either, but the bed alone would.

“Oh, that might work,” Mum said as she visualized the potential new layout.

Andrew had removed all the drawers from the chest, and Mum told him and George to be careful when they took it down to the garage.

“And bring my old dressing table back up with you… and be careful with the mirror!” she insisted.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she grinned as they shuffled down the landing with the empty chest of drawers.

“It’s really small,” I observed.

The room’s current layout maximizes the floor space,

but with the big wardrobe filling the short wall and the bed against the longer wall means there’ll be far less open floor for my…

then again…

I doubt I’ll have my racing car set or train set or Meccano set in here.

“It’s a room all of your own though… which will be nice.” Mum smiled.

“Having enough storage for your clothes is the main thing.” she said.

“And talking of which…” mum said, before leading me to my old room.

On the floor was two boxes;

one full of my old toys and newer model aircraft,

cars,

boats

and tanks,

another half full of my books,

comics and annuals.

Next to these were a couple of black bin bags.

Mum opened them and had a rummage.

“They could have folded them up first,” she said.

“Typical boys.” she smiled before checking the chests of drawers to make sure nothing had been missed.

I cast my eyes around the room I used to share with Andrew.

It’s three or maybe four times larger than my new room,

with plenty of floorspace for mucking about.

I cast my mind back to the times when Andrew and I made tents with our bedding and the clothes horse,

pretending we were camping on the moors.

Or when we used to play with the racing car set,

imagining we’d both become racing drivers when we grew up.

We’ve had some good times in here, I thought.

But when Andrew started high school,

he stopped playing with me because all of a sudden I was just a junior school ‘kid’,

and too young for him to associate with.

“Can I keep some of my books?” I asked

as I looked at those that remained on my bookshelves before peering into the box the rest were stored.

Mum had begun removing my brother’s clothes from the big wardrobe and placed them neatly on the beds.

She stopped what she was doing and joined me by the bookshelf.

“I suppose some of them might be suitable,” she said as she scanned the spines.

“How about these,” she said, removing the Famous Five books.

“Girl’s like Enid Blyton.” she smiled.

“Oh and you’ve had this since you were little,” she said,

noticing and removing the Grimm’s Picture Book of Fairy Tales in the box by her feet.

“So that’d be nice to keep too.”

I suggested a few that I’d like to keep hold of, but Mum censored my choices because she felt some were too boyish.

I ended up with all my Famous Five books,

along with Swallows & Amazons,

Swiss Family Robinson,

Tales of Peter Rabbit,

The Railway Children and the big picture book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

“Go and put those in your room.” she smiled as she cleared the rest of the shelf and put them in the box.

It’s not the most inspiring bookshelf,

I thought as I put my books on one of the empty shelves in my new bedroom.

My brothers returned to get the drawers from the chest.

“You enjoying being a girl?” Andrew asked.

I shook my head and stuck out my lip.

“No,” I replied.

“Sooner you than me,” George said as he picked up three drawers at once.

“Don’t you feel stupid with that ribbon in your hair?” he added as Andrew grabbed a couple of the smaller drawers.

I’d forgotten all about the ribbon.

My hand instinctively reached up and felt it.

“It’s horrible,” I murmured as both of my brothers sniggered under their breath.

“I think it looks nice,” Andrew said.

“I can’t wait ’til mum starts buying you dresses too.” he grinned.

“Somehow those clothes just don’t suit you anymore.”

“I hope you two boys aren’t teasing your new sister,” Mum said as she appeared behind them.

“Course not,” they replied in unison.

“I was just telling him… her that her ribbon looks nice,” Andrew added with a broad, smug grin.

“Well so long as you’re saying it nicely and not in a nasty way.” Mum said.

“Otherwise I’ll put ribbons in your hair too.” she threatened as she stepped to one side to give them room to leave.

“Will you help me with these bin bags Sophie dear?” she asked in her ‘sweet’ voice.

I nodded and sulked. Mum and I carried a bin bag each down the stairs and put them along side the other two.

My brothers returned from the garage.

Mum told them that she’d emptied the big wardrobe for them,

so they could swap those around before bringing the old dressing table up from the garage.

“Sophie and I are going to take these to the charity shop,” she said.

“I expect we’ll be an hour or two.” she added,

before telling them not to ‘down tools’ the moment we leave,

and to be careful not to damage the walls whilst they’re shifting things.

“And Peter’s old books and toys can go in the garage too for now.” she said.

Between us, we manhandled the bulky bin bags into the car and manhandled them out again when we arrived at the charity shop.

The two ladies who ran the shop were very grateful for such a large donation,

one of whom reminded me of the ribbon in my hair when she complimented it.

I wanted to leave but mum wanted to look at the clothes and the shoes.

She must have held ten dresses against me before finding some she felt would fit.

One of the ladies drew her attention to the changing room, and in I went.

Initially, I complained when mum made me try the first one on,

and when she said that I should keep the third one on whilst we go shopping,

I did kick up a bit of a stink.

“Please don’t be difficult Sophie,” she said as she strapped a pair of second-hand girl’s sandals to my bare feet

. “Girls your age are usually happy to wear a nice new dress.”

I conceded and said “Sorry.”

Mum opened the curtain and led me back into the shop.

The ladies said I looked ever so nice and commented on it being a good fit with plenty of growing room.

Mum told me to have a look at the books whilst she paid for the dresses and shoes,

and when she joined me,

she asked if I could see anything I liked.

I pointed out a big book of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles,

but mum said I wouldn’t like it.

“This one looks nice,” she said,

pulling out one titled The Adventure Book For Girls.

“Oh look they’ve got Black Beauty too.” she said,

“I used to love this when I was a girl.” she smiled,

before buying me them both.

Although my dress went down to my knees,

I felt half-naked as I stepped out onto the pavement.

Its full skirt Mum opened the passenger door for me and told me to make sure I didn’t get it creased as I sat.

She got in the other side and started the engine.

“Do you think those ladies thought I was a girl or a boy?” I asked.

“Well since you’re wearing a pretty ribbon in your hair, I doubt they thought you were a boy.” Mum replied.

“Maybe a tom-boy…”

she added.

“…until you put a dress on of course.” She smiled at me, glanced at my frock then checked the traffic.

“Are we going home now?” I reluctantly asked as she pulled out into the first available gap.

I really wasn’t looking forward to my brother’s seeing me wearing a dress,

so when mum said ‘not just yet, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Well, you need knickers and nighties,

socks and tights,” she replied.

“And some clothes that didn’t come from a charity shop,” she added.

“We don’t want the neighbors thinking we’re poverty-stricken do we?”.

“No,” I murmured.

An hour or so later, we were on our way home.

The back seat of the car was full of carrier bags from various department stores.

And each bag held God knows how many pairs of knickers,

vests, and training bras.

There were also several brand new dresses,

skirts, and blouses,

as well as a couple of pairs of girl’s shoes.

Mum filled my arms with bags and boxes from the car before grabbing the remainder herself.

We took them directly up to my new bedroom, but on the way,

she stopped me at the door of my old bedroom and said,

“Doesn’t Sophie look nice in her new dress boys?”

They were clearly creasing up laughing at me on the inside,

but on the outside,

they both told me I looked ‘nice’.

“I can’t believe you used to be a boy,” Andrew said, clearly teasing me.

“Well as far as this family is concerned, Sophie’s always been a girl,” Mum replied.

In my own room, my brothers had moved the bed,

swapped the wardrobes, and fetched the old dressing table up from the garage which they’d put in front of the window.

Mum said it all fits quite well and asked me if I liked my new room.

“It’s OK,” I replied as I put my numerous carrier bags on the mattress.

Apart from the ornate dressing table and mirror,

it wasn’t too girlie with its stripy white & green wallpaper and solid wood furniture.

“George! Andrew! In here!” Mum said loudly in her stern voice.

My brother’s appeared and she drew their attention to the two,

no three areas where they’d ripped the wallpaper

. “I told you to be careful when moving the furniture!” she said, clearly not happy.

They both apologized, but claimed it was because the wardrobe was so big it was hard to get through the door without scraping the walls.

“Well I suppose you both tried your best,” she said with a sigh.

“And I guess it could do with new wallpaper,”

she said as she focused on the numerous Blu-tack and drawing pin marks that peppered the walls.

They both left and mum and I began unpacking all my ‘nice new things’ as she called them.

“Where should I put these?” I sheepishly asked, holding a cellophane-wrapped bumper pack of knickers.

Mum looked and smiled.

“Well you can put one pair on,” she said before pulling open one of the small drawers on the side of my dressing table.

“And the rest could go in here,” she suggested.

Not surprisingly I just froze with the thought of actually wearing a pair of frilly girl’s knickers.

Even whilst wearing a dress and girl’s shoes it seemed like a step too far.

Mum took the package from my hands and opened it.

“Take your underpants off Peter,” she said as she removed the tightly packed panties.

My lower lip was stuck out so far I could actually see it.

I gulped and shook my head,

choking back my tears as my mother unfolded each horrendous pair and laid them on the mattress.

“Now come on Peter…

don’t be awkward…  she said.

My chin resembled a walnut and the first of many tears ran down my cheek.

Mum sat me on her knee and gave me a giant hug,

telling me it was OK.

Once the worst of my tears were over, she looked me in the eye and smiled,

before telling me that all girl’s wear knickers under their dresses.

“But….

I’m not really a girl.” I blubbered.

“I don’t want to wear knickers,”

I added, glancing at my mattress.

“What if someone sees up your dress whilst you’re out playing?.” she asked.

“What would they think if you’re not wearing knickers?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and muttered,

“I don’t know.”

I visualized the kids in the playground,

shouting and laughing because they’d seen up my dress.

The selection of knickers on my mattress blurred through a lingering tear.

Mum pulled a pair onto my lap and said

“What about these ones…

they’ve got plenty of blue on them….

and these stars are nice aren’t they?”

I couldn’t reply.

They may well have blue on them,

but that doesn’t excuse the little pink bow.

And having them right here,

on my lap,

they’re far too close for comfort.

Mum asked me if I’d like to wear them.

I shook my head and murmured “No.”

“Maybe there’s another pair you’d like.” she said softly, drawing my gaze to the six remaining pairs.

I shook my head again.

“Why don’t we put these ones on?” she said,

“Once they’re on you’ll forget all about them,” she said as she attempted to put my feet through the leg holes.

I kicked my foot away from them…

the boy inside me wouldn’t let me wear them…

not without at least putting up a fight.

“Don’t be awkward Sophie.” Mum said.

“If you don’t want to wear your knickers I’ll send one of the boys to the shop for some nappies instead.” she threatened.

I stuck out my lip as far as I could.

“I’m not a baby!”

“No you’re not… but if you’re not going to wear your knickers then you’ll have to wear a nappy.”
she paused, then sighed, then resumed her hug.

“Now I’m sure you don’t want me to put you in nappies do you?” she said in a quiet, soft, persuasive tone of voice.

I gulped and shook my head.

The underpants beneath my dress are the sole item of boy’s clothing I own,

and as I slid them down my legs I could feel the boy inside me ebbing away.

Mum took them from me and put my feet through the legs of the knickers.

I rested my hands on her shoulders for balance.

You know how adults rip sticking plasters off really quickly?

Well that’s what my mother did with my first pair of knickers.

One second they were around my ankles, and before I knew it they were in place around my waist.

“There you are.” she smiled as she straightened my dress. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

My lower lip stayed exactly where it was as I slowly shook my head.

“Good girl.” mum smiled as she grabbed another pack of garments.

“Let’s get your training bra on.”

“Noooo!” I peeped as she unfolded the girlie item.

“Oh please don’t be awkward Sophie.” Mum told me,

before explaining the difference between ‘big’ girls and ‘little’ girls and using the threat of a nappy once more.

I reluctantly conceded.

Mum unfastened my dress and pulled the sleeves off of my arms,

leaving it hanging by its elasticated waist.

“Now, there’s a bit of knack to fastening a bra,” she said before instructing me on how to put on the tiny garment.

Mum turned me around so she could adjust the shoulder straps.

My sense of shame dictated that I should hang my head,

but doing so put me face to face with my first bra.

Like my knickers it’s mostly white with blue and pink stars, blue straps and trim and a little pink bow stitched in the middle.

As far as I know most of the girls in my class don’t wear bras yet…

so seeing one strapped around me when I’m not even a girl was nothing to get excited about.

My mother however seemed very excited, yet claimed to understand my reserve.

She told me that when she was about my age she didn’t like having to wear a training bra either.

“But I soon got used to it.” she said with a reassuring smile,

“As I’m sure you will too.”

I forced a smile back as she helped me back into the sleeves,

then turned me around so she could zip me back in.

“Why does it fasten at the back?” I asked.

“Your dress?” Mum replied.

“So it looks nice from the front,” she said as she turned me around to face her.

“Which it does,” she added.

“Why don’t we put the rest of these things away?” she suggested.

The last thing I wanted to do was hang my skirts,

dresses and blouses in my wardrobe,

or neatly pack my knickers and bras, socks and tights in my drawers…

but that’s exactly what I did.

Mum made me fold every single pair of knickers, every single vest, and every bra before putting them neatly in my drawer.

I’d have been happy just squashing them all in in a fraction of the time, but according to Mum, girls like everything neat and tidy.