“Wake up, baby Sammykins!” Sarah cooed, standing over her sleeping brother. He groaned and rolled so that his back was to her. “C'mon, sleepyhead, time to start a new day!”
“Go away.” He muttered, holding the blankets close to him. “What are you doing in here?”
“Mom sent me. She didn't want you to spend all day in bed.”
“Go away.” He repeated.
“You went to bed so early last night, you must've gotten enough sleep by now!” Sarah teased. Sammy growled.
“Leave me alone.”
“Get out of bed.” Sarah retorted. Sammy sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sarah grinned, pleased by her perceived victory.
“Go away. I need to get dressed.” Sarah giggled.
“I saw you in your nightie already.” Sammy took a swipe at her and she relented. “Fine, but if you’re not downstairs in, let’s say ten minutes, I’m coming to find you.” She pulled the blankets down to the foot of his bed and pinched his thigh. “You still have so much baby fat.” She commented. “Such a little boy.” She walked out of the room, but left the door slightly ajar, like she always seemed to. Sammy stomped over to the door and pushed it shut.
He shuffled over to his dresser and pulled his nightgown off, sighing as he remembered his promise to wear a dress today.
“I don’t want to.” He said aloud. Last night, his mom had said that he did not need to do anything he did not want to. Did that mean he could wear his normal clothes? He had to decide soon. His clock had broken a few weeks ago and still had to be replaced, so there was no way to tell, but he felt like it had nearly been ten minutes already. “Sarah probably won’t even wait a full ten minutes.” He muttered. If Sarah did come back, he would almost certainly be forced to wear a dress, so… what would he do?
“Are you ready, Sammy?” He gasped as he heard Sarah coming. Diving toward the closet, he grabbed the first dress he could. He wrinkled his nose at how fluffy the skirt was, but at least it was navy blue. That was a boy color, right? Maybe he would get bonus points for how it kind of matched his shark underwear. He pulled it on just as Sarah opened the door. She seemed almost speechless as she saw him standing there, sheepishly pushing down on his skirt’s efforts to flare out around him.
“What?”
“I just didn’t really expect you to pick that one.” She seemed weirdly mellow, which only concerned Sammy more. “Dad’ll be pleased, I bet!”
“What do you mean?” Sammy asked.
“Oh, never mind. C’mon. It’s time for breakfast.” She gestured toward the door.
“After you.” Sammy said. Sarah smirked.
“No, ladies first.” She teased. Sammy rolled his eyes.
“Lead the way, big sister.” She giggled, tapping her cheek until Sammy obediently gave her a kiss. She did not like how long it took him, so she resolved to keep it up until he did it in a heartbeat.
“Glad this all comes so naturally to you, but this time, I think you should go first. You've got your lovely new dress to show off!”
“Can you just calm down about it? Please?” Sammy said. “I’m taking it off the first chance I can get.”
“Kids, are you coming?” Mom called up the stairs. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”
“Lead the way, little baby Sammy.” Sarah said, pushing him toward the door before he realized just how short his dress was.
Sarah held back a step or two so she could watch Sammy’s poofy skirt bounce with every careless step. Her brow furrowed a bit as she noticed that he had the same underwear on as the day before, but she stored it away for later, when she could use it to her advantage somehow.
Sammy descended the stairs to oohs and ahs from his parents and he did his best to grin and bear their praises.
“Spin for us, Sammy.” Dad said, grinning from ear to ear. Sammy complied as his entire family looked on.
“Samuel Leslie, did you remember to change your undies today?” Mom said sternly.
“I only just put them on yesterday afternoon.” Sammy mumbled, tugging down on his short skirt. “I’ll go change them.” He said. That would let him go upstairs and put on a different outfit.
“It can wait until after breakfast.” Mom said. “After all, it hasn’t been that long since your bath.” She kissed his forehead. “But from now on, a new day means new undies, understand?”
“Yeah.” Sammy mumbled, sitting down at the table, having to try a couple times to get his dress to cooperate.
“After breakfast, how about we block off the mudhole?” Dad said, smiling at his son’s struggles with the dress.
“Help like this?”
“Well, you can just supervise.”
“I don’t really want to go outside in”
“Your dress?” Sarah said helpfully. “It’s just clothes, Sammy.”
“But” Dad reached over and patted his shoulder. Sammy suspected he had an ulterior motive and wanted to touch the dress.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I would really like your help.”
“Alright.” Sammy said.
Once breakfast was over and Sammy had fended off Sarah’s attempts to wipe his face clean, he followed his dad out to the backyard, his shoes tightly tied by Sarah, despite his insistence he would do it himself. Sammy had discovered that if he kept his arms flat to his sides, the skirt of the dress behaved and he was much less likely to give people what his mom had already termed ‘a free show’.
“What do you need me to do, dad?” He asked, suddenly struck by an unmistakable feeling that things had finally gone back to normal at last. His dad walked to the side door of the garage.
“You stay out there. It’s dirty in here and I don’t want your mom to have to give you a bath in the middle of the day twice this week!” He chuckled at his comment as he walked into the cool dankness of the garage, leaving Sammy outside in the morning sunshine.
“How are we going to block it off?” Sammy asked. His dad was too busy to answer, so he waited patiently to find out.
His dad emerged a moment later carrying two sawhorses. Sammy reached out to help, but his dad moved past him. Confused, Sammy followed him, remembering that the last time he had been out here, he had had to watch every step due to his giant shoes. At least Sarah’s old shoes fit him.
Sammy stood back as his dad set up the sawhorses between him and the mudhole. He began to suspect that he was not really helping his dad in any way.
“What do you think?” His dad asked. Sammy shrugged.
“Looks good?”
“I think I spotted something that could work as a fence in the garage.” His dad said, already starting back that way. Sammy followed, grateful that the backyard’s fence was too high for the neighbors to see his sissy appearance. He was not a sissy. He was just a boy in a dress. That did not sound much better, but it at least made him feel a bit better.
Once again, Sammy stayed outside the garage, feeling the breeze on his cotton-clad bottom, as his dad retrieved whatever he needed from the garage. At least, Sammy thought, he was away from Sarah for the moment. He felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise and he turned to see if Sarah was coming out of the house. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he was only being paranoid.
“Whatcha looking at, Sammy?” His dad asked, his arms full of bright orange fencing.
“Nothing” Sammy said. “Is that the fence?”
“Yep. Follow me, Sammy Whammy!” He complied, but as he followed, he realized that Sarah's absence could mean something far worse: she could be planning some new torment for him. Maybe she had just gone over to a friend’s house or something.
“Earth to Sammy, earth to Sammy.” He heard his dad say. Sammy shook his head to free himself from his thoughts. “What’s got you so distracted, bud?”
“Sarah.” Sammy said before he could think better of it. His dad stopped rolling out the fencing and looked at his son.
“Oh?”
“Just the way she treats me.” He shrugged out of habit, blushing as that made his short skirt rise up.
“Your sister loves you.”
“She doesn’t act like a little sister.” His dad’s smile seemed strained.
“You two have a complicated relationship since you’re so close together in age. You always have.” Close in age? They were nearly two years apart, Sammy thought. He did not say that though.
“I know, but”
“I think you just need to get better at saying no to her. Your sister has a way of getting what she wants. She gets it from your mom, honestly.” He chuckled. “She’ll grow out of it, I’m sure.”
“But dad. I mean, look at me.”
“It’s just fun, Sammy.” He hugged the boy. “We both know you’re my little man, right?”
“I don’t feel like a man.”
“You will.” He held Sammy’s scrawny shoulders. “Trust me, one day you’re going to look back on this and wish you could be here again.” He chuckled as Sammy wrinkled his nose. “Trust me.” He turned back to the fencing. “And, tell Sarah no every now and again.”
“I try. She just pushes.”
“Stay firm. She’s used to you doing whatever she says, but if you just keep saying no, eventually you’ll break through.”
“Can you help me?”
“I can try, but you know Sarah’s”
“Just gonna get me alone, I know.” Sammy sighed. He had done it the night before, he could, and would, do it again. He almost shuddered at the thought, but pushed it from his mind. “Can I help you?” It looked to him like his dad was struggling.
“Naw, you just keep supervising.” His dad replied amiably. “I've got it right where I want it.” Sammy thought about insisting, but decided not to. After all, why should he not take advantage of not actually having to do anything? He busied himself trying to figure out how to keep his skirt from blowing around.
Did he really have to wear the dress all day? Surely just the morning would be fine. What if they had to go somewhere? Would he be allowed to change? Was that Sarah's plan? What if it was? He would refuse, that was what. He would insist that he be allowed to put on normal clothes, regardless of how they tried to tell him that the dress was normal clothes.
“I’m changing by lunch.” He told himself, his words sounding hollow. He tried to find his confidence, but it evaded him. Was it just that it was hard to feel tough in the dress? Was the dress softening him up? “Hey, dad?”
“What’s up, bud?”
“What does the clothes make the man mean?” His dad chuckled.
“Still fixated on that dress, huh?”
“Well, yeah.” Sammy said. “It keeps blowing around.”
“I thought your sister gave you some tips.”
“We stayed inside yesterday.”
“Well,” his dad said with a shrug. “It’s just something you’ll have to get used to.”
“I’m not going to wear the dresses.” Sammy said. “They sat in Sarah’s closet for a long time, why should I wear them?”
“Seems kind of silly not to.” His dad said. “You’ve worn dresses twice now and look, you’re perfectly fine.” He shrugged again as he finished the fence. “Seems like you’re making a big deal out of it. If you don’t look like you care, I bet even Sarah will leave you alone.” He stood back from the makeshift fence. “What do you think, Sammy?”
“Sam.” Sammy corrected. “Looks good.” His dad chuckled.
“Let’s head inside. See what the women have been up to.”
Topic: Boys Don't Wear Dresses (Read 69144 times)
