Boys Don't Wear Dresses

[BetBots]

Well, come to think of it, there was another evening phenomenon that was equally as fun: hearing him being told it was bedtime in the same breath as her being told it was an hour until hers. She had considered trying to push her bedtime back or his up more, but she kind of liked things where they were at the moment. His bedtime was earlier than hers, but not ridiculously so.

“I'll keep it on.” He felt as timid as could be.

“Well, I can't stand being in a dress another minute.” His sister proclaimed. “I just can’t pull it off like you can, bro!” With a final giggle, she left the room to change into something that would only remind her brother more that he was now the only one not wearing pants. She silently chided herself a moment later though. She was trying to normalize his wearing dresses, not embarrass him. With a shrug, she put on a skirt instead of jeans. There. That would work, she thought as she twirled in the mirror before heading back out to her brother and mom.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. It seemed that the boy was growing used to wearing the dress, which was exactly what his sister had been hoping for. Of course, she knew that once he took it off, he would never want to wear a dress again. There had to be a way to make sure he did not forget about how easily wearing a dress had come to him. But what could it be? A stroke of inspiration came to her and she complimented him on his dress, emphasizing that she saw it as his.

“My dress? It’s yours! I just uh borrowed it.” His sister shook her head.

“You've worn it all day.” She explained. “So, I think it's your dress now. Mom, there's no reason he can't hang it in his closet, is there?”

“Of course not.” She said. “Thank your sister for giving you your first dress.”
   
“But” his head swam. They were teaming up on him!
   
“If you say it sincerely enough, I won't have her teach you how to curtsey.” Come to think of it, she doubted her daughter even knew how to curtsey, but it still worked as an empty threat.

“Thank you for my” he looked to his mom, who nodded firmly. “My first dress.” He did not like the idea of it being his ‘first’ dress. Did that mean that there were more to follow? He was a boy, he was not supposed to wear dresses! His mom could see that he was upset, so she relented, at least a bit.

“How about you go take your dress off? But I’ll be up there a little later to make sure that you hang it up.”

“I will.” He mumbled, eager to get upstairs and take it off. He practically ran upstairs and the two women giggled, knowing he would return a moment later when he realized. In truth, it was at least five minutes before the embarrassed boy came back, still in his dress.

“Changed your mind about taking it off?” His sister asked with a grin.

“No, I just need help.” With a giggle, she came over to help him, but Mom had other more nefarious plans.

“It'll be dinner in a bit and then after that, it’ll be bedtime. Might as well just leave it on, don't you think?”

“But”

“No buts. How about your sister gives you some more training on how to move, now that you own a dress all your own?” Even though she made it sound like a suggestion, it was anything but and the boy found himself shuffling into the living room for his sister to teach him how to skip without flashing his underwear.

“Remember when you were like seven and me and my friends cornered you?”

“No?”

“Bet you do! We made you wear my whole ballet outfit and kept teasing you about joining ballet until you cried.” She grinned. “Come to think of it, isn't that why mom decided to move you into your own room?”

“Was not!” He protested, not even caring how whiny he sounded.

“You two better not be fighting in there!”

“Are you sick of skipping?” She asked. He shrugged. “I could try teaching you to curtsey.”

“Skipping's fine.” He mumbled, looking nervously at her. She gave an approving nod and gestured for him to continue skipping around the room in a tidy circle. She clapped her hands every time she caught the slightest glimpse of his underwear, which was easy since it was bright white cotton with equally eye-catching red fire trucks all over it.

She kept him skipping until dinner time, which thankfully passed without incident. By the time dinner was eaten and the dishes were washed, it was nearly his bedtime. He shuffled upstairs, followed closely by his mom, who had promised to unzip the dress this time. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he was finally free, even if it meant being in just his underwear in front of his mom.

He placed the dress in his closet, resolving to find a way to hide it once he had a chance. He walked over to his bed to get in, but the door suddenly flew open and his sister stepped in.

“Mom.” She said, ignoring him. “I’ve been thinking. How’s it fair that Sammy gets to sleep in just his underwear, but I’m required to wear pajamas?” He stared at her. What a dumb question! He had stopped wearing pajamas four years ago, right around the time he had first gotten free of the kiddy printed briefs he had found himself back in since his last birthday.

“That’s true.”

“It is?” He said in disbelief.

“Think about it. If there’s an emergency, do you really want to have to run out of the house in just your underwear?”

“No, I guess not.” His mom nodded.

“Well, we’ll need to find you some jammies.”

“I don’t have any.”

“We’ll get you some.” His mom replied. He went to climb into bed, but she held a finger up. “For now, I’m sure your sister can lend you some.”

“What?”
   
“You wore a dress all day, didn’t you?” His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. “Go grab your brother whatever you don’t wear anymore. That way, we won’t feel rushed to go spend money on new pajamas.” He could have told his mom that she would come back with nothing but nightgowns, and sure enough, she did. “Pink, white, and yellow. Looks like you’ve got options, hmm?” His mom said as she looked at the three nighties her daughter had brought in. He sighed.
   
“Mom, this is ridiculous.”
   
“You’re just wearing them to bed. Calm down.”
   
“I’m too old”
   
“You’re too old to whine about clothes. Here. Put on the white one and get to bed. It’s five minutes past your bedtime already and I can tell you’re getting crabby.” Sammy huffed and grabbed the nightgown, but froze as he felt his mom's hand wrap around his wrist. “Do you need a spanking before you go to bed?” He shook his head. “Alright then. Get dressed without the attitude.” As Sarah looked on, Sammy put the nightgown on, blushing as he did so. It felt a lot like the dress, but softer and lighter somehow.
   
“It fits.” Sarah said with a smile.
   
“Put your other two nighties in the bottom drawer of your dresser, Sammy.” His mom instructed. He complied, grateful at least that the nightie fell to his ankles, so he could not possibly flash anyone.
   
“Do I have to call them nighties?” He asked. “Why not just pajamas?” His mom pulled back the covers and patted his mattress. He should have known it would be a tucked in night.
   
“We'll give you a choice. Nightie, nightgown, or dress jammies.” Sammy's face made it abundantly clear just what he thought of that.
   
“Can I think about it?”
   
“You can tell me what you picked tomorrow, okay?” His mom said with a smile.
   
“Can we go buy me some different pajamas tomorrow?”
   
“We'll see.” She replied diplomatically, pulling the blankets over her son. “Good night, Sammy. Sarah, you better not drag out your bedtime as much as Sammy did.” With that, they left the room, leaving Sammy to drift into a deep sleep.

[Andlat]

The next morning, a rumble of thunder woke Sammy up. He sat up, determined to avoid wearing a dress again. He knew that the best way to accomplish that was to make sure Sarah did not catch him before he was dressed. Leaping from bed, he dashed over to the dresser, tripping over the hem of his nightgown and falling with a thump! He froze in place, terrified that someone would come investigate at any moment. The house remained silent except for the thundering thumping of his heart. Getting back up, he quickly stripped, taking care to put everything in his hamper to avoid being teased for just leaving his nightgown on the floor.
   
“It’s not mine.” He muttered, making a point to avoid looking at the dress hanging in his closet.
   
Sammy dressed so quickly that he hardly even noticed the beach balls on his underwear before he had pulled his shorts on. He looked at himself in the mirror. A return to normalcy, he thought. He marched over to his hamper and pulled a few shirts on top of the nightgown. There. Now it was especially normal. Time for breakfast.
   
As he emerged from his bedroom, however, an idea occurred to him. He had avoided having to take a bath last night, which all but guaranteed his evening would involve the dreaded tub. Unless… he smiled and went into the bathroom. He would take a shower now, before anyone was up. Then, when mom told him to get in the tub that evening, he would spring it on here. It would ensure that he no longer had to take childish baths. The idea, he knew, was foolproof.
   
His anxiety led him to take a very abbreviated shower before quickly drying off and dressing again. He listened at the door before sneaking out, but all he heard was the rain falling outside on the roof. Had he gotten away with it? Part of him simply could not believe it and he did a bit of an impromptu jig from overwhelming joy. This was it, the answer to finally regaining some of the maturity he had inexplicably lost.
   
He sat at the table, eating some cereal, when Sarah came downstairs. She noticed that he had his normal clothes on again, which elicited giggles from her. She poured herself some cereal, but it sat in the bowl as she stared at Sammy, as if there was something puzzling about him. He tried not to show that her stare was bothering him, but he could not help but wonder just what it was that she was pondering. He knew from experience that it could not mean anything good for him.
   
“What?” He said at last, annoyance and impatience coloring his voice. Sarah took this as an invitation to step closer to him and he realized her gaze was on his still damp hair.
   
“Why’s your hair wet?” Her tone made it clear that she already knew why. She just wanted to hear him say it.
   
“I took a shower.” He tried to remain as nonchalant as possible. After all, it was not like taking a shower was a crime or something. She grinned at him.
   
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
   
“Why would I?” He asked, his heart pounding all the same. She sat down right beside him, her eyes warm and eager.
   
“Because you’re supposed to take baths, mister.” She said. “Mom said so.”
   
“So? She’ll probably be happy I took inish” What was that word their mom always seemed to use?
   
“Initiative.”
   
“Yeah, that.”
   
“No, I’m pretty sure she’ll be upset. You’ve been begging to shower for like a month and she keeps refusing.”
   
“Isn’t it weird to you?” Sarah simply shrugged, even though it did strike her as weird.
   
“Maybe we should keep it a secret, just in case.”
   
“Yeah” Sammy said cautiously. Sarah nodded, grateful that he saw things her way. She rose to grab her cereal from the counter.
   
“Of course” she said. “I’ll need something to ensure my silence.”
   
“Great.” Sammy muttered. “Like what?”
   
“Hmm” Sarah tapped her chin as if she had to think.
   
“I’m not wearing a dress again.”
   
“There’s an idea!” Sarah said with a grin. “No, I wouldn’t suggest that, Sammy.” She snapped her fingers as they heard the sounds of their mom moving around upstairs. “Got it. From now on, when we’re alone, and only when we’re alone, I want you to call me big sis.”
   
“What? Why?”
   
“Let’s face it. I kinda am your big sister, aren’t I?” Sammy grumbled. “Unless you want to find out if mom’s mad or not.” She figured that she would not be, but Sammy did not need to know that and she hoped that he would not find out. She figured that her brother was too timid to take that risk, but he had taken the initiative to shower this morning. Was he finally growing a backbone?
   
“Fine. Whatever.” Sammy muttered.
   
“We’re alone right now.” Sarah was eager to test it out.
   
“You promise to keep it secret? And I only have to call you big sis when we’re alone?”
   
“Exactly.” She drew a cross over her heart. “I solemnly swear.” Sammy squirmed in place before nodded.
   
“Fine.” Sarah clapped excitedly, but quickly fell silent as their mom came down the stairs.
   
“Sammy, did you leave your clothes on the floor?”
   
“Nope. Put them in the hamper.” Sam replied immediately. After all, he needed to demonstrate his maturity as frequently as possible if he wanted to break free of Sarah's plans.
   
“Did Sarah have to remind you?” Sarah snorted into her cereal.
   
“Why would she? She wasn’t even up when I got dressed.”
   
“Oh, really? You got up and dressed all by yourself?” Sammy felt like the world was spinning. Of course he did. He did every morning.
   
“C’mon, mom. I’m not a baby!”
   
“Of course you’re not, Sammy.” His mom replied. Just like that, she shifted gears. “What’s the plan for today? Hopefully the rain clears up soon.”

“Maybe we could play a game?” Sarah suggested. Sammy simply shrugged. Given their agreement, he did not want to be alone with Sarah any more than he absolutely had to. He would finish his breakfast and hide up in his room. Yep, that was what he would do.

He carried his bowl into the kitchen, realizing that this was another opportunity to demonstrate his maturity. He walked to the sink, fully determined to wash his bowl and spoon. As soon as he set to work, however, his mom appeared behind him and took the dishes out of his hands.
 
“These can just go in the dishwasher, Sammy.” She said, doing it for him. He shrugged and headed for the stairs. Sarah was still eating, but he knew he only had a limited amount of time before she would pursue. Little sisters could be so annoying.

He closed the door behind him and, not for the first time, wished his door had a lock on it. This would not stop Sarah at all, he knew. His only hope was to find something to do to keep her from forcing him to play with her. His eyes drifted over to the dress and he reminded himself that he needed to find some way to hide that. Later. The last thing he wanted right now was for Sarah to come in to find him fiddling with it. She would probably make him wear it! He shuddered and, grabbing a book, started to at least pretend to read it.

[Andlat]

Sam stared at the page before him, listening to the rain falling against the window, but he knew he was waiting for another sound, the sound of Sarah’s footsteps on the stairs. Maybe she had found something to do downstairs. Maybe mom had told her to leave him alone. Maybe

Sammy screamed as the door flew open and Sarah stood in the doorway. She giggled at his shrill shriek. Under her arm, she held a couple board games.

“Sorry for startling you, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam. I’m twelve years old for god’s sakes!”

“And what are you supposed to call me?”
   
“Big sis.” He muttered. She nodded.
   
“And why do you think I want you to do that?”
   
“To embarrass me.” He had meant to say annoy, but embarrass had slipped out. She shook her head and sat on the edge of his bed.
   
“That’s not it at all, Sammy.” She said. “Look, I know you’re twelve and I’m only ten, but I think I know enough to recognize when a little boy needs a big sister’s guiding hand.” She saw him about to interject, so she just kept going. “You know Jayden Blankenship down the street? He seems to benefit a lot from his big sister Rose, don’t you think?”
   
“Jayden’s five.” Sammy’s tone was so acidic that, for a moment, Sarah considered reminding him just how many similarities there were between his life and Jayden’s, but she quickly thought better of it.
   
“It doesn't really matter if you accept it or not, Sammy.” She said calmly. “I'm your big sister. Who am I?” Sammy remained silent. “Remember what you agreed to. I promise mom still doesn't know about your shower, but” she allowed her voice to trail off ominously.
   
“Big sister.” Sammy mumbled.
   
“What a good little boy!” She praised effervescently. “Now, which board game would you like to play? This is a good opportunity to practice your manners.” Sammy, feeling terribly defiant, simply pointed at one of the games. Sarah patiently smiled. “Maybe you're too little to even know how to use your words. Good thing you have a big sister, hmm?” Sammy rolled his eyes.
   
“Can we please play Risky Business?” He said mockingly.
   
“It’s ages 8 and up. It might be tough for you.”
   
“Sarah!”
   
“Call me my name one more time and you’ll be sorry. As far as you’re concerned, my name is big sister. Understand?”
   
“Why are you doing this?”
   
“I already told you. You’re a little boy in need of a big sister’s guidance.”
   
“You’re younger than me!” Sarah wanted to get angry with him, but she knew that that would only make things worse. She chose a different tactic. She dove on the unsuspecting boy and began to mercilessly tickle him. Both of them had been ticklish as kids. While Sarah had mostly outgrown it, Sammy had never really lost it. He squealed with laughter as she tickled him in exactly the right spots to render him completely unable to defend himself. Sarah's grin grew as he wiggled and squirmed, looking every bit in his giggles like the little boy she knew he still was deep down. She could see that Sammy was trying desperately to say something, so she slowed her tickles enough to let him gasp out whatever he wanted to say.
   
“Stop!”
   
“Say you're just a little boy who needs his big sister.”
   
“No!” Immediately, Sarah resumed tickling him, wondering if she could make him wet himself if he did not give in soon. She did not really want to.
   
“Say it and I'll stop.” She felt like she had to yell just to hear herself over his shrill squeals and giggles. Would it draw mom's attention? She hoped not. “Say that you're a little boy who needs his big sister.”
   
“I'm a” Sammy began between giggles and squeals “little boy who needs his big sister.” Too late, Sarah wished she could have recorded it. She pulled her hands back and smiled at him. “One more time?” He remained silent and she chuckled. She knew it was pressing her luck. “Ready to play Risky Business?” Sammy nodded.
   
They both moved to the floor and Sarah began to set up the game. She smiled at Sammy, admiring his long eyelashes and pink lips with new eyes. He had a certain beauty to his face that seemed unbecoming a boy.
   
“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Sarah said. “Izzie’s coming over this afternoon.” Sammy made a face before he could stop himself. “Don’t worry. We’ll leave you alone.”
   
“Promise?”
   
“Who am I?”
   
“Big sister.” He said wearily.
   
“Yep. And I promise as your big sister that we’ll leave you alone.”
   
“And no telling her about yesterday.”
   
“What about yesterday?”
   
“You know? What I wore?” Sarah giggled.
   
“We’ll be talking about big sister stuff. You won’t come up, silly.” Sammy felt foolish, but he was still glad he had brought it up, just to be safe. Girls were weird. “Are we going to play Risky Business or what?”
   
Playing the game would have felt normal, except every time that Sammy needed to make a trade, Sarah insisted on him ending every offer by calling her ‘big sister’. In turn, she called him ‘little brother’ or even ‘baby brother’, alternating between them as if she was trying to decide which she liked more, which of course she was. His annoyance might have bothered her on another day, but she was grateful that it was distracting him from the fact that she was beating him badly at the game, something that always put him in a dark mood. By the end of the game, it became obvious that she would win. She could see Sammy starting to pout, so she quickly tried to mend things like a big sister should.
   
“You almost had me there, Sammy.” She said with a grin. “Had to really try to win at the end.” Sammy frowned. He did not seem to be believing a single word. “Now what should I pick for my prize?”
   
“Prize?”
   
“Didn’t I say that we were playing for a prize?” Sammy knew immediately what she was thinking.
   
“I’m not wearing a dress. Especially if Izzie’s coming.”
   
“Fine. Until Izzie comes. I’m kidding!” She said, chuckling. “I just want you to give your big sister a kiss.”
   
“A kiss? Blech!”
   
“Just on the cheek, geez. Little boys.” Sammy grumbled. Sarah thought for a moment. “How about this? You can pick. Either you give me a kiss” she tapped her cheek. “Or, you let me pick out your undies for the next”
   
“No.”
   
“Kiss it is then!” She tapped her cheek. Sammy rolled his eyes.
   
“You’re joking.”
   
“You have until the count of three or I’m picking your underwear for a week. Maybe even a month!”
   
“A month?” Sarah nodded and tapped her cheek one last time. She grinned as he hurried over and pecked her cheek. She smiled. “That’s a start, but I can tell you’ll need lots of practice.” She looked at the game. “Can you clean the game up yourself or do you need big sister’s help?” Sammy’s laziness was nearly legendary, but she had a suspicion he would rather do it himself than have to call her big sister again.
   
“I’ll do it myself.” He said.
   
“Alright, bring it downstairs once you’re done.” She said. “Is it still raining?” She went over to his window. “I think it stopped.” She looked back at him. “Do you remember where board games go, little boy?”
   
“Yes” He said acerbically. She giggled and left him alone. If he did not come downstairs in five minutes, she would check on him.
   
To Sarah’s surprise, he came downstairs in no time at all with the box in his hands. She smiled and took it from him, placing it back in the game cupboard as if he did not know where it went. She tapped her cheek, but he pretended not to notice.
   
“Izzie’ll be here soon.” She said. “She’s bringing over the new Battle Gems game, so we’ll be playing it in here, in case you don’t want to be around.”
   
“I don’t want you locked up in your room all day, Sammy.” His mom said, poking her head in. “You can either help me mop the kitchen floor or you can go play outside.” That was an easy choice for Sammy and his mom knew what he would pick without him even saying it. “The sun’s coming out, but it’s still wet, so be careful.”
   
“Ok.” He went over to the closet by the front door to grab his shoes. “Hey, mom? Where are my shoes?”
   
“I’m not in charge of keeping track of them.” His mom said. “They have to be in there somewhere.”
   
“They’re not” Sammy did not even care if he sounded like he was whining.
   
“Wear your sister’s or something.” She said wearily.
   
“No!” Sammy muttered. His eyes fell on a pair of his dad’s. They would be too big, but he needed shoes, didn’t he? He slipped his foot in. If he tied them tightly enough, they would work, he figured. Sarah watched him curiously.
   
“Those look like clown shoes on you.”
   
“They’ll work.” He grunted.
   
“You could just be barefoot.” She remarked, but the chime of the doorbell distracted her. “Izzie’s here!” Sam beat the hastiest retreat he could in the overly large shoes.

[krystalasbaby2017]

It is interesting sister has a way of pushing Sam's buttons and getting what she wants.  I think she hid his shoes

[Sissy Poopsie]

Enjoying your story, his little sister has always got the better of him it seems, which is a good thing.

Keeps the little fellow in check.


I hope his mommy buys him some cartoon or super hero pj's.

His sister might also suggest to mommy some dry night pants,  if his bedtime gets any earlier. Lol

[Andlat]

Krystalasbaby2017 - what possible reason would dear sweet Sarah have for doing that?

Sissy Poopsie - my imagination has been running wild with what Sammy will be wearing to bed in the near future. A boy like him could very well have had past issues staying dry, but I don't know if diapers or pullups are quite in the cards for him. Yet.

[Sissy Poopsie]

Andlet I leave it up to your wonderful imagination to decide.

I can't wait to see what you come up with.