As the weeks went by, Mommy began to show a little.

One morning,

after I had finished brushing her hair,

she made me change places with her and started brushing my hair while she talked.

It felt so good.

“Sweetie, I promised you that I would let you know how it feels to be having a baby.

Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“Would you still like that?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Well OK, then.

I am going to show you some things that mommies usually don’t show their little boys.

But you and I are so close,

so it will be all right.”

She tucked my hair behind my ear,

it was almost shoulder-length now,

and kissed me tenderly.

I went to bed and thought about her, and our little baby to be.

 

 

The next night, after brushing her hair, I asked

“Mommy, how come your hair is so curly and pretty and mine isn’t?

You said we have the same hair.”

“You have lovely hair honey,

but if you want curls,

you’ll have to get a perm or put it up in rollers.”

I was silent.

“Do you want me to set your hair for you.”

“No. I mean.

That’s not… I can’t do that.

Can I?”

“Of course you can!

Why ever not?

You have beautiful hair, you should enjoy it.”

“But boys don’t curl their hair.”

“Boys miss out on a lot of lovely things.

What’s nice about the three of us living here is that you don’t have to miss a thing.

I think you would look wonderful with a nice curly hairdo.

And I am very proud that you want your hair to look more like Mommy’s.

Will you let me see what I can do?”

“OK. I guess.”

 

It was so exciting!

She brought out some electric curlers and put up my hair with them.

I couldn’t believe how heavy they were, or how good I felt when all my hair was up.

I had to see how I looked from all angles with the hand mirror – it really was exciting!

I couldn’t wait to see myself with curls,

but Mommy said I had to be patient until the curlers had cooled or the set wouldn’t last.

Finally, she took out the rollers and each ringlet bounced and swayed like a fine golden spring.

I had to touch each one, unroll it, and then watch and feel it snap back into place.

Then she brushed my hair into a very pretty style, with the curls turned under.

They felt so nice against my ears and neck. She looked at me appraisingly.

“No. Too old for you, sweetheart.”

She brushed out the curls so they turned up just above my shoulders.

“Now, that’s what we call a flip.

Much more appropriate for a girl your age.”

I was so thrilled by the look and feel of my hair,

I didn’t even notice what she called me.

Then she got just a little serious.

“Now honey, this is just for fun, right?” I nodded.

“So why don’t we surprise Grandma.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you sneak into the kitchen and put on your apron.

I scurried off and was back in a flash, wearing my apron.

I couldn’t believe how girly I looked in the mirror with my new flip.

“Let’s go show Grandma! No, wait a sec.”

Mommy put a barrette in my hair and off we went.

Grandma was sitting in the living room when we entered.

She took one look at me and broke into tears.

“Mom, what’s wrong?

Don’t you think Chrissy looks nice.”

Grandma replied, “Oh my dear, I think she looks absolutely lovely.

It’s just that… she looks exactly like you at her age.

She could be your twin!”

I felt so proud!

A little confused,

but I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Really, Grandma?”

“Really, sweetie!

Just exactly like your Mommy.”

I ran into her arms, beaming from ear to ear.

Grandma sprang to her feet and said, “Ladies, please follow me!”

She led us upstairs, into the attic, which was full of chests and boxes.

Mommy got wise.

“Mom, you didn’t!” “Of course I did!

I have every shred of clothing you ever wore when you lived here, including dozens of things that I’m sure will fit Chrissy.”

We spent the next two hours looking through piles of clothes.

It was so much fun –

I hadn’t seen Mommy so happy in a very long time. I modeled each dress or outfit, and she showed me how to walk, how to sit, how to put on airs, just like a girl.

Some of the clothes made me feel a way I had never felt before – very demure, together, pretty.

I really liked it.

Mommy had a story for nearly everything I wore, a memory that came rushing back to her.

When I wore a filmy pink party dress with a full skirt and puffed sleeves, she blurted out.

“Oh my god, that’s the dress I was wearing the first time a boy ever kissed me!”

We all made wooooo woooo noises and laughed.

I hunched my shoulders together and danced around, cuddling myself and swaying my hips.

Grandma loved it.

“What was it like Mommy,

the first time you kissed a boy? D

id you like it?”

“Oh my yes, honey.

I got all tingly and flushed.

I didn’t want him to stop.”

I was so lost in the moment, in our happiness, that I just spoke without thinking.

“I think I might like to have a boy kiss me someday,

just to see what it was like.

But I’d definitely want to be wearing this dress.

It makes me feel so sexy and girly.”

Mommy and Grandma looked at each other,

and I felt embarrassed,

but before I could worry about it, Mommy had whisked me off to try on another dress and some hats.

When we were all exhausted,

Grandma helped me carry some of the clothes into my bedroom where they became “my” wardrobe,

at least for the time being.

I was so tired and happy

this had been the best day ever.

Mommy picked out a pretty nightie for me to wear to bed.

“I remember this nightie so well,

Chrissy. I thought it was so pretty,

so grown up.

Would you like to try it on?”

“Of course, I would, Mommy!”

held my arms straight up and she let the soft nightgown trickle over my body.

I loved how it felt against my skin as she smoothed away the wrinkles.

She took me by the hand over to my full-length mirror and made me turn around.

I was too tired and contented to be surprised by what I saw a pretty young girl,

her hair in curls, her eyes shining,

her body sheathed in satin and lace.