" She pulled the towel around my waist up to chest level. Althoughthe towel did feel odd in its new position, at least it wasn't draggingon the ground...any more. "That should work much better," she said,smiling as she took my hand and lead me upstairs. I could see whereCorina got that hand-holding thing.When we reached the upstairs bathroom door, Aunt Joan said, "Go aheadand get washed up. I'm going to see about getting you clean clothes andthen getting dinner started."The first thing I noticed. My mother said, "Tell your father why you're wearing a dress, dear." I said, "I like wearing dresses. I like dressing up like a girl." "Why?" he roared. "I just do." "Look at me!" I looked at him. He looked sick, like he wanted to throw up. He was disgusted. I know how he felt. "How could you let him dress this way?" he said to my mother. "I don't like it any more than you, dear, but he says it breaks his heart to dress like a boy. He wanted you to see the new Michael. He's even got a. More

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