Mary said sonething like, "Oh, Fred, stop putting us on and go on up and rest. We're just having a glass of sherry and haven't even started lunch, so we won't need you for an hour or so.'

Carol's remark alluded to my only adult TV appearance. I had been addicted since early in my childhood, as far back as I could remember, and often indulged secretly. I had been thrilled as a boy to don a dress for a Halloween party, but ashamed to admit it. But about a year previous, I had gently nudged our Man's Club at the church into including a “Bathing Beauty Contest” at a benefit show we put on. I'd borrowed Mary's wig, and rented from a costumer a kind of abbreviated bathing suit, really a chorus girl's dance costume, and a pair of opera length black net stockings. For shoes, I'd screwed up my courage, walked brazenly into the women's shoe department of one of our large department stores, and bought a pair of high-heeled black patent leather pumps in my size, 81⁄2 C. Much to my surprise as well as my wife's, “"Miss Frieda B----" had nothing but compliments on "her" realistically feminine appearance, and especially "her" legs. Frankly, I think many men's legs would look fairly sexy in wide-mesh black hose and high-heels. But from Mary's reaction I was even more convinced that she would never understand my TV-ism.

As I went upstairs to lie down, I decided that this was a chance to dress which I would regret the rest of my life if I passed up. Mary would be shocked, I was sure, but would have to go along with the gag, because I was sure the girls would enjoy it and not let her put a wet blanket on my caper. So I lay down and planned and contemplated in ecstasy, but was too excited to get much rest.

Carol came up in about half an hour, with a sandwich and cup of tea. "You will join us, won't you Fred?” she asked.

"Oh, Carol, do you really expect a lone man to turn himself over to the mercies of you seven females? That't pretty unfair odds, don't you think?"

"C'mon, now, Fred, we won't hurt you."

"Well, if you can assure me that you'll not pick on me, but treat me as just one of the girls, I'll go along.”

"O.K. Fred, that's a deal if that's how you want it. Just one of

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