Janet shows me some of her birthday presents and I feign interest. She tells me the highlights of her party; who won pass-the-parcel, who won musical chairs, who ate too much cake. Then she looks me up and down and asks why I didn’t come to her party when I’m wearing a party dress. “Because everyone would have laughed at me.” I mumbled.

“Putting him in a dress was the best way to make sure he did as he was told and stayed in his room.” Mum claimed.

“I’d have stayed in my room if you didn’t make me wear a dress.” I claimed.

“We both know that isn’t true David.” Mum said. “Now why don’t you help your sister clear the table?” she asked.

“OK.” I moaned.

Janet stacked the plates and dishes and put the cutlery in a beaker and the leftovers in a bowl. I ferried them to the kitchen where Mum filled the sink with hot soapy water. I returned to the dining room and fetched the bowl and beakers, before helping my sister tidy up the discarded wrapping paper from pass-the-parcel, the sweet wrappers from the goody bags and the empty cup-cake cups. We stuffed them into a carrier bag and I stuffed it in the kitchen bin. “You’re being very helpful.” Mum smiled. I didn’t respond save for forcing a reluctant smile. Mum looked me up and down and smiled at me. I knew what she was thinking.

“Why did you make me wear dress?” I mournfully asked.

“To encourage you to be a good boy.” Mum replied. “You’re always teasing your sister and her friends and today of all days, I needed you to be good.”

“But why a dress?” I reiterated. “I’m not a girl.” I whined.

“That doesn’t matter. Sometimes its good for boys to wear dresses.” she claimed. I furrowed my brow, searching for the reasoning behind that statement but couldn’t think of a logical explanation. “When can I take it off?” I asked.

“You may as well keep it on until bedtime.”

“Oh mu-um do I have to?!” I grumbled.

“I think so.” Mum replied before suggesting I go and ask my sister if there’s anything else I can do.