Transvestia

"Hush! Puppy. Mother!" she called out.

"Yes? What's the matter?" said Mother as she hurried in from the front room where she was looking over all the loot.

―

"Mother that was Amy." (That's the missing girl.) "She was in a horseback riding accident this morning and can't come. She couldn't call earlier because they had her knocked out while they fixed her leg. Now what am I going to do?"

Well, if Mary looked disappointed, I thought Mother was going to cry. She started running around in circles and moaning to herself. Mary moved over next to me and sort of grabbed my arm. Heck - if she felt so bad she wanted my company, it must have been pretty bad. She sort of looked at me real funny then, - then looked again, and suddenly said,

"Mother! - I know what to do."

"Huh?"said Mother a little glassy-eyed. You know what my crummy sister had thought of? Yeah - me! Nobody even asked me what I thought about it, it was only “Oh, do you think it will work” — and "but will the dress fit?"— and“Do you really think it will work?" And you might know, with my luck, the dress fit pretty well. Not at first, but it did after my sister made me put on some of her underwear and some padding.

-

"I have to go and get my own hair done first thing in the morning. I'll take him with me and we'll rent a wig from Lucille. She can also do his makeup at the same time."

Mother went downstairs. "But look, Sis. I can't do this." I protested. I should have kept my mouth shut. Boy! Did I ever get told off.

"Oh-yes-you-are! And do you know why you are? Because you want to! I mean, who's been rummaging through my drawers for the past several years? Batman? Come off it, little one. Or do you want me to tell Mother about the box in the back of your closet? Which reminds me a bride is supposed to wear something borrowed. I want to wear that black garter belt

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