When I was a youngster of about 8, my mom decided that I should start being
neater about my hair. She carefully brushed it before I left for school,
using some sticky stuff she bought at the drug store.

She warned me that if I came home with my hair messy, she would punish me.

Well, I couldn't keep my hands away from my hair. When the stuff she had
applied to it dried, it was, stiff and crisp. It was kind of compelling to
play with the crisp strands. By the time I got home from school, my hair was
a mess.

My mom was angry. She told me that she would find an appropriate way to
punish me. She made me shower and shampoo my hair. Then she combed and
brushed my hair again, this time using even more sticky stuff. She showed me
the bottle. It said "Hair Trainer For Unruly Hair."

Just before my bedtime, my mom came into my room with a pink hairnet. I had
never seen a hairnet before, and asked her what it was. She told me that it
was a net to wear while I slept, so I wouldn't mess up my hair in my sleep. I
knew it looked like a girl's thing. It was pink and had tiny bows around the
edge. I told her I wouldn't wear it. She told me it was part of my punishment
for messing up my hair earlier in the day. She told me that the punishment
would be worse if I refused to wear the hairnet.

Finally, I let her put the net on my head and tie it in the back. I looked in
the mirror. It looked very girly. Mom said "don't take it off or you'll be in
real trouble."

I must have pulled the net off in my sleep, because in the morning I found it
on my pillow. My hair had gotten pushed up on one side and dried that way. I
tried to brush it down but the Hair Trainer had done its job. My hair would
only stand up.

I went down to breakfast.

"Robert, is this your idea of a joke? How dare you come down here with hair
like that? You went to sleep with it perfectly groomed, with a net covering
it to keep it that way, and now you look like a clown."

"But mom, I don't know...I didn't touch it...It was like this when I woke up"

"Well I know spite-work when I see it, now you'll have a punishment you'll
remember."

She let me finish breakfast, then took me to the kitchen sink.

She wet my hair with the sprayer and wrapped a towel around it. Then she took
me to her bedroom and got a jar of something that looked like pink jelly. She
put a big gob of it on my hair and rubbed it in. It smelled sweet. She combed
my hair. I saw her get some shiny metal clips out of a drawer and felt her
put them into my hair. She had my back to the mirror, so I couldn't see what
she was doing. When she finished with the comb and the clips, she put the
hairnet back on my head. Then she took her hairdryer and put that on my head
too. She turned on the dryer and made me sit there for a long time.

The dryer got very hot and the sweet smell from my head got stronger.

Finally she turned off the dryer and took it off. She took off the net too.
"Now, feel your hair"

My hair was warm and very stiff. It felt like plastic. I could feel the metal
clips attached to my hair. She took out the clips and began to brush my hair.
It hurt as she pulled the brush through the stiff hair. Finally she said she
was finished brushing. She let me look in the mirror. My hair looked
different. It had waves on top, and she had brushed the front down into bangs
on my forehead. When I touched it, it felt soft.

My mom said my punishment wasn't finished. "Your hair looks lovely now, and
I'm going to make sure you keep it like this all day long." She told me to
close my eyes and sit very still. I heard a hissing sound and smelled a
strong, sweet smell, as she sprayed my hair over and over.

"Now you smell like a sweet little girl."

Then she used just the hose of her dryer to dry the spray. She put another
net on my head. This one was much thinner than the pink one. It was brown,
and you almost couldn't see it. She told me it was a girl's hairnet and that
I had to wear it all day, even to school.

I got to school late that day. My mom gave me a note to give to the teacher.
The note was in a sealed envelope. The teacher read the note and smiled. She
whispered "Don't worry, you look very nice, now sit down."

That day at school, I got teased about my hair. I felt humiliated when one of
the girls in my class touched my hair and giggled

"Ooo, you're wearing hairspray and a hairnet. You must

love having such pretty hair. Are you going to get your ears

pierced too?"

But I learned my lesson. I never touched my hair that day, and came back home
with it looking just like it did when my mother sent me to school.

My mother gave me a big hug when I got home and said "I love my big boy, and
my little girl, all rolled into one"

My mom seemed really pleased that my hair was still just about how she had
left it that morning. I felt kind of strange being called her "big boy and
her little girl," but what the heck? It seemed like it had been years since
the last time she was pleased with anything about me.

Mom set out milk and cookies as she often did when I got home from school,
but she did something unusual this time. She set out some for herself and
joined me.

"I'm very proud of you. Your punishment is over and you won't be punished
over your hair again, as long as you keep it well groomed."

"Thanks mom, It was embarrassing to wear the net to school, but

I saw my reflection a couple of times, and I thought my hair looked nice."

"Rob, would you do something for me? I know I said your punishment was over,
but would you leave the net on for a while?

We'll be going out to eat later, with aunt May and your cousin Jen, and I'd
like for your hair to look nice for that. You can take the net off just
before we leave."

"Sure mom." So I left the hairnet on for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't
feel much like dealing with my friends while wearing it, so I planned to take
a short, easy bike ride, alone, then to do my homework. While riding up a
hill, I began to perspire heavily. As I did, I could smell the sweet odor of
the hairspray from my head. I had forgotten about that aroma after the spray
had dried. Now it was back again. I began to think about my mother's remark
about my smelling like a "sweet little girl." I got angry.

"I'm not a girl, sweet or otherwise" I thought. I thought about that most of
the way home. I guess thinking about that remark made me feel angry. I rode
pretty hard on the way home. I was hot and tired when I put my bike in the
shed, and went inside to start my homework.

Mom greeted me at the stairs.

"Where have you been? You look like you've been in a wrestling match."

Her eyes turned angry as she spoke.

"I told you we were going out to eat tonight. Couldn't you stay neat for just
a few hours? Look in the mirror!"

With that, she almost dragged me to the hallway mirror, the full length one.

"You're all perspired, there is mud splashed on your shoes and your hair is a
sticky mess. You'll need a serious cleanup before we go out to dinner this
evening."

"But mom, I have to start my homework."

"That will have to wait a little while. You'll have plenty of

time to do it while your hair is drying. Now get into the shower"

I undressed in my room and headed for the bathroom in my underwear. About two
seconds after I closed the door, my mother knocked.

"Open the door a crack, I have something for you."

I opened the door about 3 inches, while standing behind it. Mom handed me a
bar of soap and a bottle of hair conditioner.

"First shampoo your hair, then put on the conditioner. Leave the conditioner
on your hair while you soap up with this soap. Then rinse everything off. I
expect you dressed in clean clothes in 10 minutes. Call me when you're ready"

"Ready for what?" I thought, but decided not to ask.

I showered as mom had asked. I used the regular shampoo in the bathroom and
then the conditioner my mother had given to me. The label said to leave it on
for a full two minutes. The label also had a lot text on it about "extra
body" and " waves and curls that last." I felt a little silly using it, but
it did smell nice. The soap felt about the same as my usual bar, but it had a
strong, perfume like smell. I finished showering, dried off and dashed to my
room wrapped in a towel, as usual. I dressed quickly, combed my hair a bit
and began my homework. Then I remembered that mom had asked me to call her.

"Mom, I'm finished in the shower and all dressed."

"OK Robbie, I'll be right up there"

"Robbie?" I thought. "What's that all about?" It was always

"Rob" or, if she really wanted to get my attention, "Robert."

Mom came up the stairs and asked me if my homework included any reading
assignments. I told her it was almost all reading tonight. She asked me to
bring a book or two, and to come with her. We went into her bedroom. She
asked me to sit in the same chair as this morning.

"This isn't meant to be a punishment, though you do deserve one. I realize
that young people need lots of exercise, and that exercise can get you
sweaty, but I did ask you to stay neat and clean."

"Sorry, mom"

"Well, just cooperate with me now and everything will be fine."

"OK"

"Just hand me one of these each time I ask for one."

With that she put a plastic bowl in my hand. It was filled with hair curlers!
Now, this was weird!

"Mom, these are for girls and I'm NOT a girl."

"I know what you are, and if you don't want to be punished, you'll cooperate
with me."

With that I felt her put something cool on my hair and rub in.

I remembered the smell from this morning.

"What is that stuff?"

"Its called setting gel. It helps your hair keep its shape after it's been
set."

"Isn't hair setting for girls?"

"Boy, girl...What's the difference? In this case, hair setting is for you."

She took a comb with a long thin tail and began to comb my hair. She soon
asked for a curler, which I gave her. I looked at it briefly before I handed
it over. It was made of pale blue plastic. It was as big around as a soda
bottle cap, and about half as long as a new pencil. There were two metal pins
stored on it. I almost recognized these as "bobby pins," but these pins were
longer.

Mom took the curler and started to do something with it, then she stopped.

"Turn the chair so you can watch in the mirror. I want you to watch this
closely"

I turned my chair and sat back down.

"Also, when I ask for a roller, take the pins off it, and hand me just the
roller. Hold the pins. I'll ask for them next. Watch how I do this."

I watched how mom combed one section of my hair at a time. She combed it out,
straight out from my head. Then she rolled it around the curler, or "roller"
as she called it. She rolled it down until the plastic touched my head. Then
she seemed to give it an extra little turn that made it very tight. She
slipped in the two pins, one at each end and very close to my scalp. It felt
uncomfortably tight.

Then she asked for another roller. I gave her just the roller.

I held onto the pins. She rolled the roller down tight, just touching the
first one. She asked for the pins, and I gave them to her, one at a time. I
watched her slip them into the ends of the roller, close to my scalp. I could
feel the pull against my scalp.

She combed another section of my hair up.

"Now you try it."

I felt really silly as I tried to get the hair to stay on the roller while
winding it. This was harder than it looked. Everything seemed to work
backward. My hair was somehow slippery and sticky at the same time. It stuck
to my fingers and slipped off the roller.

I finally got the roller rolled down to my scalp and pinned in place. It
looked anything but neat.

"Mom, see. I'm no good at this girl stuff. Besides why do I need my hair set?
I thought you just wanted me to keep it neat."

"You told me you liked how nice it looked at school today. I just want you to
be proud of how you look, that's all. All you need is practice."

With that, she took over again, adding more rollers until the top of my head
was covered with them. She tried to put a few on the sides, but my hair was
too short there. Mom combed the front hair down on my forehead again in
bangs, but this time she put some pink tape across from just in front of one
ear, to just in front of the other.

"The tape will keep your bangs nice and flat while they dry.

They were a little fly-away this morning"

Mom put the same pink hairnet on my head that I had worn this morning. She
told me to get out one of my reading assignment books. Then she brought out
her dryer. She put the soft plastic hood on my head and attached the hose.
She told me to start my reading.

Then she turned on the dryer. She left the room.

I sat there reading for about half an hour while the warm air and noise
surrounded my head. The sweet, damp smell from my hair was very relaxing. The
dryer wasn't as hot as it had been this morning, or I was getting used to it.
Once or twice, I thought about what would happen to me, if any of my friends
saw me in this condition. My life would be Hell forever!

The warmth, the droning noise, and the boring history textbook finally got to
me. I dozed off. When mom returned, I was napping with my head resting on the
tabletop, supported by my hands and by the air-filled dryer hood.

"Wake up sleeping beauty, time for your comb-out"

"What's a comb-out?"

"That's the finishing part of your new hairdo"

"Mom, I don't want a hairdo, hairdos are for girls. I want my

hair to look nice, but I don't want to look like a girl."

My mother seemed to change in an instant.

"Listen Robbie, I'm losing my patience with you. I want you to look nice; you
want to look nice. Stop fussing about what boys do and what girls do. You are
my Robbie, and we both agree that you want nice looking hair."

"Why are you calling me 'Robbie?' You always used to say

'Rob'."

"Rob is a verb for stealing. From now on it will be Robbie, or

Robert when you get me angry. Now go take off that Tee shirt and

put on a button-up shirt. I don't want you to mess up your hair tonight, when
you get undressed."

I went to my room to change my shirt. This was getting weird. I liked the
name "Rob." Mom had been acting a bit strange lately. She would get really
upset every time a "crime" or "violence" story came on the TV news. And why
worry about how my hair would look when I took off my shirt?

I took off my Tee. It was tricky getting it over the rollers. I was careful
not to mess them up. No telling what Mom would say in this mood.

I went to my closet to get a button-up shirt. I usually lived in Tee shirts
and jeans. I hardly ever wore anything else. I took out the first button-up
shirt I found. It was a plaid, winter shirt and too warm for this time of
year. I looked further and found a light-weight, dark blue shirt. I put it
on. The sleeves only came to the middle of my arms, and I couldn't button it
at all. Like I said, I didn't wear them often. I took it off. I was about to
settle for the plaid when my mother came in.

"What's taking so long? We don't have all night."

"Looks like I've outgrown this shirt, and this one is for winter"

"I thought that might be the problem. I was shopping yesterday and saw some
really cute things on sale. I couldn't resist getting you two new shirts. You
can pick the one you want to wear tonight."

She handed me a bag from K-Mart. Inside were two short sleeve button shirts.
One was deep pink and the other was bright purple. They were made of some
kind of light, smooth fabric. They felt cool and almost slippery. I really
didn't like the colors.

"Well, which one?'

"Mom, Why these colors, didn't they have blue or gray, or even brown?"

"Don't be so old fashioned. These are the new summer colors. Com'on you'll
look like a movie star."

Mom was smiling again, and that was a rare event. I picked the purple and
tried it on.

It felt cool and smooth. It was very comfortable. I had a bit of trouble
buttoning it up. Like I say, I hadn't worn a button shirt in months, and I
was never too good with my left hand.

Just out of the curiosity, I looked at the neck of the pink one. The size
label said "kids large." The brand label had been cut out. I asked Mom about
that.

"Must be because they're on sale. Some companies don't want people to know,
that they sometimes sell very fine clothes at sale prices."

"That shirt goes with your coloring. Let's finish your hair"

Back at the chair, in front of Mom's mirror, she unclipped one roller and
unrolled it. The curl of hair sprung right back into shape, like the roller
was still there!

"Robbie, you do this. It's easy"

I took out the rest of the rollers, and took the tape off my forehead. My
hair felt crisp and stiff. It looked shiny and had the shape of the rollers.
I shook my head and watched the curls bounce around and settle back into even
coils.

"Mom, you've made my hair into springs." We both laughed.

Mom took over then. She worked on each curl with a hairbrush and got

the stiffness out. She brushed the bangs carefully, until I had a smooth,
even

fringe on my forehead. She worked on my hair with the brush and her fingers
for several minutes. I had never seen my hair like this before. There was no
part on the side. There was a kind of part that separated the fringe on my
forehead from a bunch of even curls on top. She had split the curl from each
roller into several smaller curls. They seemed to go in different directions,
but they were all the same size. Finally she got out a can of hairspray.

"Mom, I don't want to smell like a girl again."

"Don't be silly, the smell disappears when the spray is dry. Here, you spray
it. You don't have use as much as I did this morning. If you can leave your
hair alone during the evening, and not play with it, you only need a moderate
amount of spray."

I took the spray and shot a short burst at my hair. The smell was strong and
sweet, like it was this morning. Somehow though, it was pleasant. I finished
spraying all around my head.

"Don't forget the back and the bangs"

I reached around and sprayed the back. Mom told me to close my eyes when I
did my bangs. I did.

"Now, go sit in your room and read for at least 15 minutes. Don't touch your
hair at all. That way you can be sure your hair will look just fine when the
spray is dry and firm"

"Mom, didn't you dry the spray with the dryer hose this morning? Can we do
that now?"

"This morning we were in a hurry to get to school. Now we have time. You have
reading to do anyway. Also, I want you to be aware, that if you want nice
hair, you have to be willing to spend time on it."

Fifteen minutes passed quickly. I had switched from reading my history text
to reading a book about inventions. It was fun, even though I was reading it
for a book report.

Mom came back into my room and announced that it was time to leave. She had
changed her clothes from the jeans and sweater she had on earlier. I guess I
don't usually notice much about what my mother is wearing, but this time how
could I miss it? She was wearing a tan skirt, and a blouse that looked just
like my shirt!

"Mom, you tricked me!" I shouted. "This is a girls color, see it's the same
as you're wearing."

"First, Robert do not raise your voice to me. Second, you are being very
silly. When I wear blue jeans, does that make blue a girls color?"

"I guess not. Sorry I yelled"

" OK I forgive you. Now I see you're wearing blue jeans, and they really
aren't right for dinner with relatives. Put on your black chinos and let's
go."

I changed my pants quickly and headed downstairs. As I passed the hall
mirror, I got a look at myself. I knew I had a "hairdo" and that I had a
purple shirt on, but somehow the whole picture just stopped me. I stood there
for a few seconds. Mom came up from behind me. She put her arms around me.

"You look so nice. I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to meet aunt May and
cousin Jen at Red Lobster.

We walked to the car together. Mom seemed genuinely happy to be taking me
with her. She drove to the mall and parked near the Red Lobster. She skipped
the usual "reading the riot act" about behaving myself and not embarrassing
her in public. All she said was "I know you will be as charming as you look"
Just before we got out of the car she said

"Wait a second." She patted my hair gently and did something with her
fingers. I squirmed away.

"Don't do that. I was only adjusting one of your curls. It was sticking up a
bit"

She patted my hair again. "There, that's fine. I can't wait until aunt May
and your cousin see you."

Aunt May and her daughter Jen were already in the restaurant. They were
waiting in the lobby. As soon as we arrived, a young woman walked the four of
us to a table. I sat next to Mom, facing Jen. Aunt may sat facing Mom. The
young woman handed us menus.

"Enjoy your dinner, ladies"

"Hey, wait, I'm a..."

Mom shot me a look, and poked me in the ribs at the same time.

"But Mom, she said 'ladies' and I'm boy"

"Well, what did you expect her to say? It is three to one."

I really didn't have an answer at the time, and I don't think Mom wanted one.

We decided on what we were going to order. At least Mom let me order fried
shrimp.

Mom and her sister May began to talk about adult stuff. Jobs, furniture,
basically boring. I looked at Jen. Other than "Hello," we hadn't said much to
each other.

Jen is two years older than I am, and was about a head taller then. She
thought she was very grown up. Mom and May are twins. Mom said that when she
and May were kids, no one except their parents could tell them apart. People
used to say that both Jen and I "took after" our mothers. I guess that means
we looked like them. So I guess, when you figure it all out, Jen and I looked
a lot like each other.

We both have brown eyes and light brown hair. Of course, Jen's hair was a lot
longer than mine was. She usually had it in a ponytail that hung straight as
a stick, almost to her belt. I could tell that Jen was looking hard at
something about me.

"Since when do you have curly hair?"

I could feel myself turning red. I looked down at the table.

"Com'on, 'fess up, curly hair doesn't run in our family"

I wished I would drop into a hole in the floor.

"Jen, how's your new bike working"

"Don' try to change the subject, I asked you about you hair, about your curly
hair to be specific"

I looked to Mom. She was talking to May about floor lamps.

"I think you curled your hair. In fact, I think you got a perm"

"I did not" I didn't know what a perm was, but I didn't think I had one.

" Well what is it then? Rollers? Curling iron? I could just see you doing
your hair with a curling iron. Were you careful not to burn your hair? It
could all fall out, you know."

Jen was almost laughing. I was about to cry.

"Mom, Jen's teasing me. Make her stop"

"I'm not teasing him. I'm just asking about how he got his beautiful curls. I
know they're not natural."

" Jen, I helped him set his hair on rollers. Robbie has decided that it is
worth some effort to have nice looking hair. I think it's great. Most boys
are such slobs. I'm helping him learn to take care of his hair."

Jen looked a bit puzzled. I saw aunt May whisper something to Mom. She moved
her mouth, but almost no sound came out. I think she said "He looks
adorable." I don't think I was supposed to hear that.

"Jen, you could use a little shape in your hair too you know."

"Mother, I'm not cutting my hair and that's that. I think it looks great long
and straight, especially when I play my guitar."

"I didn't say you have to cut it, just put a little curl in it now and then,
so it doesn't look so severe."

Jen looked right into my eyes. "See what you got me into now, curler boy?
Just because you want to look like a sissy, I'm going to have to spend an
afternoon under a dryer. By the way, is that a shirt or a blouse you're
wearing? I see it matches your mother's"

Aunt May turned. "Jennifer Sue Ross, What has gotten into you? Mind your
manners. I think Robbie looks great today. You could use to take a lesson
from him. It was all I could do to get you to wear something other than
cutoffs and dirty sneakers this evening."

Aunt May turned back to my mother. "Since we're planning to be together for
the weekend anyway, while my apartment is being painted, perhaps you can help
me civilize Jen a bit"

The waitress came and took our orders. Mom and May chatted on, while Jen and
I mostly just glared at each other. Anger had replaced the embarrassment I
felt earlier.

Actually, I wanted to ring Jen's neck. Hey, maybe I was dressed a bit funny,
but Mom seemed to really love me this way. That meant a lot.

The food arrived and Jen and I ate without talking to each other. I knew how
Mom wanted me to act, so I didn't crown Queen Jennifer with a scoop of mashed
potatoes.

On the way home, I asked Mom "Do I really look like a sissy?"

"Robbie you look fine. Jen just doesn't know how to talk to a boy who cares
about his appearance."

It was almost 10 o'clock when we got home. I headed for my room to get ready
for bed. Mom knocked, then popped her head in the door.

"Do you want to wear a hairnet to sleep tonight?"

"Why?"

"Well, we worked so hard to get your hair nice today, I thought you might
want to keep your curls for school tomorrow."

I hadn't thought of that. I did like the way my curls looked. Then I thought
about how that girl had treated me yesterday, and how Jen had acted last
night.

"Mom, I'm not sure I'm ready to go to school with curls, again, so soon."

"OK, It's your choice" I saw her face fall.

I wanted Mom to be happy with me, but the teasing almost had me crying, both
in school and with Jen.

As I put my head on the pillow, I could feel my hair getting pressed flat. I
knew my curls wouldn't look very good in the morning. I got up, and turned on
the light. On my bureau was the thin, brown hairnet I had worn to school, and
on the bike ride. I smoothed it out and put it on. I turned out the light and
got back into bed. I folded my pillow over, so that it held up my cheek, with
the top of my head not touching anything.

This way I would still have my curls in the morning. Then I could decide.
Curls to school? Or wash them out.

I woke up Friday morning and immediately thought about my hair. The net was
still in place and my hair looked about the same as the night before. The
bangs were messed up a bit. They weren't the neat, even fringe they had been.
I brushed my teeth and got ready to take a shower. Decision time. Was I "man
enough" to go to school with a pretty hairdo? Now that sounded funny! I
decided to keep the curls. At least I wouldn't be wearing a hairnet.

I knew that Mom wore a plastic shower cap when she wanted to keep her hair
dry in the shower. I called down to her to ask her if I could borrow it.

"Of course you can, dear. Just shake the water off it and hang it back up
when you finish. I'm so happy you decided to keep your curls"

I covered my hair with the cap and showered. I got dressed, pulling the Tee
shirt neck over my head as carefully as I could. It barely touched my hair. I
looked in the mirror. I definitely looked like a boy, with dark blue Tee
shirt and blue jeans. But I had a hairstyle that looked like it belonged on a
girl. And the weirdest part was, that I liked the way it looked.

Mom checked me over when I got downstairs.

"Robbie, you look lovely"

"Mom, do you have to say that? I think I'd rather look handsome"

"Well you do. With those curls, you look like a storybook prince"

The next thing was hard to ask.

"Mom, could help me with my bangs? They look messy to me"

"Oh, how fast you're learning! Here, I'll show you a trick. Your bangs are
slightly damp now from the mist in the shower. They still have hairspray and
gel on them from yesterday. If you brush them carefully, and put some setting
tape across them, you can get them to look just about perfect."

Mom got out the brush and the tape, and I worked on my bangs in front of the
hall mirror. I put the tape on. It looked sort of silly. Pink tape with
zig-zag edges on my forehead.

I didn't take the tape off until the school bus was at the stop on the next
block. Mom showed me how to give my bangs a quick brushing and how to give my
whole head a quick shot of spray. Then I left for school.

I hadn't figured on the hairspray still being wet and "fragrant" when I got
into the bus.

I sat in the last available seat. That turned out to be next to Betty Thomas.
Betty is in my class. She has reddish hair and freckles. She has two kittens
that she seems talk about all the time. As girls go, she's not so bad. She
sniffed the air as I sat down.

"Is that you? I think I smell Aquanett"

I looked down at the floor. She sniffed again, this time closer to my head.

"It is you. You're wearing hairspray. I think that's so

sweet. Most boys don't care about their hair at all. I like how

your hair looks too."

I could feel my face and ears turning red. I slunk down in my

seat.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I really meant it as a
compliment."

"I guess I'm a little sensitive about my hair. Anyway, lots of boys keep
their hair neat."

"Yes, but almost all of them who comb it at all, go around with it looking
wet, parted on the side, and with that silly wave pushed up in front. They
look like Howdy Doody."

"I saw you riding your bike past my house yesterday. I tried to call out to
you, but you went by too fast. Next time, could you stop by? I'd love to show
you my two cute kittens."

Was I ever glad I didn't hear her! I wouldn't have wanted to stop, not with
the hairnet on.

"I was in hurry, Mom wanted me back in an hour and I was already late."

"Maybe you could come over today. Here's my address."

She pulled a small notebook out of her book bag and wrote something in it.
She tore out the page and handed it to me.

It said "Betty Thomas 144 Nicole St. Try to make it by 4:00"

Betty and I chatted for most of the ride to school.

The morning went by quickly. Betty Thomas found me in the lunchroom.

"I hope your hair looks just as nice this afternoon as it does now. My mother
used to be a hairstylist, and she says that good looking hair is always a big
plus, for boys as well as girls."

"I'm looking forward to seeing those kittens of yours."

I was looking at Betty, when I heard a voice from behind.

"Oh how sweet, Betty the redhead and Robert with the pretty hair. Robert, I
see you went from waves yesterday to curls today. Are you planning to go red
like Betty for tomorrow?"

We both turned toward the voice. Before I could say a word, Betty answered

"Be nice, if you know how, Teresa Tubby"

So that was her name...at least the Teresa part...

"Are you going to set each other's hair?"

"Go find your own boy to talk to, Fatso"

That second reference to Teresa's weight got my attention. I guess I was
staring at her. She looked down, turned red, and hurried away.

"Don't let that fat little pest bother you."

The bell rang, ending lunch period

"See you at 4:00. Don't forget.'

"I'll be there. So long, Betty."

The afternoon seemed to drag on forever. We had 3 1/2 hours of school before
lunch and 2 hours after, but the afternoon sometimes seemed twice as long.
Especially on Friday. Teresa was in my class, of course, but she avoided me
that afternoon.

I got home and went for my bike.

"Mom, I'm going for a ride to Betty Thomas' house. She invited me for this
afternoon"

"Ok, just come here a minute before you leave."

I walked over to Mom. She put her hands on my shoulders and stood looking at
me.

"I just want to make sure you look all right."

She tugged at the bottom of my Tee shirt.

"This shirt is getting a bit short on you. I'll bring you one to change
into."

I waited while mom came back with a fresh shirt. It was the kind of shirt
that has 3 buttons in the front, but pulls on like a Tee shirt. I noticed the
collar was more rounded than pointed. It was a kind of pale orange color.

"I saw this while shopping today. I think it will look just darling on you."

Mom helped me take off my Tee shirt carefully without messing up my hair. She
opened the buttons on the new shirt and helped me put it on.

With the buttons open, it barely touched my head as I pulled it on.

"Here, let me help you fix your hair."

With a few touches of a brush, and a long shot of hairspray, she said I was
ready to go. I looked at myself as I passed the mirror on my way out. I saw
my head with a bunch of curls above straight, smooth bangs, sticking out from
a shirt that was the color of orange sherbet. I had never seen myself in this
color before, but somehow I liked it.

I got my bike from the garage and started toward Betty's house. It wasn't a
long ride, well under a mile. Betty and her mother were in the front yard,
pulling weeds from a flower bed, as I arrived.

Betty's mother looked a lot like Betty. She had the same color red hair as
Betty, except that hers was in a style that I didn't really know the name of.
It wasn't until some time later that I found out it was called a "French
Twist Updo"

Whatever it was called, I thought it was very pretty. In fact, I thought
Betty's mother was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

"Hi Rob"

"Hi Betty"

"Hello, Rob."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Thomas"

"Come on in, I'll bet both of you would like a snack"

We went into the kitchen and sat at the table. The cookies were already
there, and Mrs Thomas got the milk from the fridge. I was on my second cookie
when Mrs. Thomas spoke to me.

"When I first saw you coming down the street, I wasn't sure if you were the
boy Betty had told me about. You look so different from most of the boys in
her school."

"What do you mean"

"Oh you know. You look more...refined...better groomed..."

"Well, my Mom has been kind of helping me with my appearance lately."

"I can see you've been giving some attention to your hair. I know those curls
aren't natural, but they look so nice. They are from rollers, aren't they?"

I did an instant imitation of a stoplight.

"Mother, please don't embarrass Rob like that.

He looks very nice, but I don't think he likes to talk about it."

"Sorry Betty, I guess once a hairstylist, always a hairstylist. By the way,
you know we have Aunt Sue's wedding shower tomorrow. I'd like to set your
hair this afternoon, to save some time in the morning. I could do it now.
Then you and Rob can play with the kittens. Your hair will take only about 15
minutes."

"Rob, would you mind?"

"Betty, is it ok if I watch"

"Ok with me, Mother sets my hair all the time. No big deal."

I watched as Mrs. Thomas moved a stool over to the sink and had Betty sit on
it while she shampooed her hair. I could see her working the lather in with
her fingers. She tested the water on her wrist before using the sprayer to
rinse Betty's hair. She put some other liquid on Betty's hair. I thought I
recognized the bottle.

"Mrs. Thomas, is that conditioner?"

"Yes, it is. It leaves hair easier to set, and it helps the set last longer."

Mrs. Thomas finished rinsing Betty's hair and wrapped a towel around her
head. Betty got off the stool.

"I could do your hair, while I'm at it. I know several great styles for hair
that's medium short, like yours. Would you like that?"

"I think I better check with my mom first. She seems very concerned about my
hair the last few days."

"You can call her, if you want"

I really didn't feel comfortable with all this attention about my hair, but
Mrs. Thomas was so beautiful, and seemed so kind, that the thought of her
hands working on my head gave me an excited feeling that was hard to
describe.

I called and spoke with Mom. As it turned out, Mom knew Mrs. Thomas. In fact,
Mom said that Mrs. Thomas used to use the name "Miss Ruth" when she worked in
a salon, and that Mom was one of her customers. Mom said that she couldn't
wait to see what style Miss Ruth would do with my hair. Mom asked that I give
the phone to Mrs. Thomas.

They talked for a few minutes. When Mrs. Thomas hung up, she said

"Robbie, hop up on the stool. Your mom says I can make you as beautiful as I
want"

The words sounded a bit scary...after all, girls get "made beautiful," not
boys. But Mrs. Thomas' smile was so warm, and she spoke like she really liked
me. I got on the stool without a moment's hesitation.

"OK Robbie, bend forward over the sink."

She had just called me Robbie twice. I guess my mother asked her to call me
that.

Mrs. Thomas wet my hair with warm water.

She ran her fingers through it and added some shampoo. She worked the shampoo
around every bit of my scalp. I didn't think something could feel so relaxing
and exciting at the same time.

I could feel her rinsing my hair with water that was so pleasantly warm.

"I'm going to lather your hair again, I want to make sure I get all the
hairspray out."

During the second lathering, I told Mrs. Thomas how wonderful it felt.

"Well, I haven't lost my touch. By the way, you can call me Miss Ruth, if you
like"

"I think I'll stick to Mrs. Thomas"

After the second shampooing, and the conditioning, Mrs. Thomas wrapped a
towel around my head. I joined Betty at the kitchen table.

"I'll set Betty first, she has been waiting"

Mrs. Thomas worked smoothly and quickly. She used a comb like Mom's, with a
long tail. She would use the tail to separate a section of Betty's hair, then
comb it smooth. She would then dip her finger into a jar of a yellow jelly
and apply it to the section of hair. Then she rolled the section on a roller
and used little chrome clips to hold the roller in place. She put lots of
rollers in Betty's hair.

"I'm rolling Betty's hair with the rollers vertical. Tomorrow, she will have
adorable ringlets. Do you know what ringlets are?"

I said I didn't know. Mrs. Thomas described them. I realized I had seen them
on girls before, usually on very pretty, dressed-up girls. In my mind, I had
always called them "tube curls."

Finally, she was finished. I don't think it really took her more than 10
minutes to put about 40 rollers on Betty's head. She put a light brown
hairnet over the rollers.

"OK Robbie, you're next."

I was already sitting at the kitchen table. Mrs. Thomas walked to the side of
my chair and unwrapped the towel from around my head. I could instantly smell
the fragrance from my damp hair. She began combing my hair. As she did, I
felt a strange kind of excitement. It was a mix of feelings. The movement of
the comb against my scalp was soothing, while all the thoughts about what was
being done to me made my heart pound.

Mrs. Thomas said that it was ok with my mom, if she made me "as beautiful as
she wanted"

Betty was watching her mother work on my head, as she sat there looking very
grown up in her rollers and net.

"You know Rob, you really have very nice hair. I hope you consider letting it
grow longer this summer. I know boys often get those awful

"summer crewcuts" thinking they will feel cooler, but I doubt it helps at
all."

"I think you're right, Betty. I had a crewcut last summer, and actually got a
sunburn on top of my head. Then I had to wear a baseball cap all the time. I
think I'd rather just have some hair."

"Rob, I think you would look nice with longer hair. Besides, with long hair,
you can try so many different styles. I like trying new hairstyles."

"Robbie, would you like me to try a different style on you now?"

"What do you mean, Mrs. Thomas?"

"Well, I was thinking, we could try something a little more special looking."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mrs. Thomas."

"Let me try a different style. If you don't like it, we can just wash it out,
and comb your hair into your old 'regular boy style'"

"I'm not sure how my mom would feel about that."

All the time, while talking, she was combing my hair. Now, she reached across
the table and picked up a roller from the same bowl of rollers she had used
for Betty's hair.

"I think if we do something else with your bangs, it will change your whole
look."

I could feel her rolling the hair right at the front of my head. When the
roller touched my scalp, she fastened it with two of those little clips, same
as she had done on Betty. I could tell that this roller was almost right
above my eye. I tried to look up as much as I could, and see if I could see
the roller.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess you want to watch, this is all still pretty new to
you."

With that, she went to a drawer and took out a mirror on a stand. She handed
it to me.

"Set this up so you can see me work."

I set up the mirror and watched, fascinated as the rollers were applied to my
head. There was a firm, tight feeling to each one. Mrs. Thomas was rolling my
hair in a different way than my mom had. When Mom did it, the bangs were
combed forward, and all the rollers seemed to be rolled toward the back.

Mrs. Thomas had the rollers in a set of 4, two rolled from the middle to the
right, and two toward the left. The rollers behind these were about like my
mom had done, rolled toward the back.

"Does your mom set your hair often?"

"No, Mrs. Thomas, just for the last two days"

"And is that a new shirt you're wearing?"

I had almost forgotten about the pale orange shirt I had on.

"Yes, My mom just got it for me today"

"May I look at the label?"

"Sure"

Mrs. Thomas gently lifted my shirt collar in the back.

"No label. It must be one of those expensive samples that sometimes find
their way to discount stores. Your mother has a great eye for fashion."

Mrs. Thomas had finished working with the rollers. She had put about 8 or 10
of them in my hair. I thought they were smaller than the ones my mother had
used, but I wasn't sure. She covered my hair with a blue net and tied it in
the back.

"Why don't the two of you go out in yard and play with the kittens. With the
sun and the breeze, Robbie's short hair will be dry in about two hours.
Betty, our dryer is still broken, you'll have to sleep in your rollers."

We headed for the backyard. It wasn't until I was almost out the door, that
it hit me that someone from school might see me. 'Dead' wouldn't begin to
describe my fate! Rollers, hairnet, playing with a girl! I might as well be
wearing a pink dress and have a Barbie Doll in my hands. I stood still.

"Come on"

Betty was standing next to me with a kitten under each arm. I followed,
feeling like the world was about to crash down at any second.

Actually, nothing terrible happened. We played with the kittens. We sat on
the grass and threw crumpled paper to them, and they pounced on it. Betty
tied an extra hair roller to a string and dangled it in front of the adorable
calico kitten. The little cat batted at the roller like it was the best toy
in the world.

Meanwhile, the shiny black kitten with the pretty white paws had walked
around behind me, and started to play with the long tails hanging from my
hairnet.

"Rob, I think they want to grow up to be salon cats."

We both giggled.

We played with the kittens, played catch with a beach ball, and pulled a few
weeds from around Mrs. Thomas' flowers. Betty's mom came to the back door.

"Robbie" (That name again!)

"You're going have to be heading back home for dinner soon. Let's see if your
hair is dry enough to comb out."

We walked back into the house. Mrs. Thomas carefully untied the hairnet from
around my head and took it off. She took the clips out of one roller and
unwound it.

"OK, nice and dry. That sunshine and spring air did the trick. Let's get you
finished."

I was seated back at the kitchen table. Mrs. Thomas had the rollers out of my
hair in seconds. I watched in the mirror as she brushed the front of my hair
into two curls that went left and right from the center. and ended on my
forehead.

She separated the even rolls of hair at the top of my head, and held each
small section between two fingers as she sprayed it. She held it for a few
seconds longer, then moved to another curl. I could see the curls arranged
with the end of one resting on the middle of the one behind it.

"These are called 'Petal Curls' because they look something like a flower
bud. Do you like them?"

I really didn't know what to say. These curls were very different from what
my mom had done.

If anything, they were smoother, and except for the curls on my forehead,
they all curled toward the back.

"This hairstyle always gets lots of spray to keep the petals firm and
slightly elevated. It doesn't look too nice if it gets flattened. Here goes"

I never thought you could put that much spray on one guy's head! I thought it
might start to drip off. But none got in my eyes, and I didn't die from lack
of air. Just then, the phone rang.

Mrs. Thomas picked it up.

"It's your mother"

I took the phone.

"Robbie, I hope you're having a nice time and behaving yourself'

"Everything is great, and I think you'll be surprised when you see me."

"I bet you look wonderful. Miss Ruth is very talented. Start for home soon.
Dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Mother, can you comb my hair out now?"

"No Betty, your hair is much longer. It isn't even half dry yet."

"I wish I didn't have to sleep in rollers tonight. Sometimes I wake up with a
stiff neck from them and tomorrow is Aunt Sue's shower. I don't want to be
out of sorts for that."

"With the dryer plug burned out, I don't see any other choice"

"Maybe I can help. My dad taught me how to put plugs on lamps and how to make
extension cords"

"Well, I'll show you the dryer"

The dryer was not at all like my mom's. It stood on the floor in Mrs. Thomas'
bedroom, and had a big chrome hood. I had seen a row of dryers like this the
beauty salon where my mother went. They reminded me of space helmets, like on
TV.

The plug was really OK. The burned spot was about 2 inches up the wire. I
think the rubber had worn out and the wires had touched.

"I think I can fix it for you."

Betty said "Could you try, please"

I used the screwdriver and wire cutter that Mrs. Thomas dug out of a drawer,
and went to work on the plug. I shortened the wire back beyond the bad spot,
and began to put the plug on.

I could see myself in the mirror, with a new perfect hairdo, working on the
plug. It was almost like my head was out of place with my hands. It looked
strange in a way, but in a way it was exciting.

When I finished, I plugged it in and Mrs. Thomas turned it on. It worked.
Soon Betty was sitting under the dryer.

She looked so grown up! Just like the ladies at the salon.

Mrs. Thomas hugged me before I left.

"Thank you. Beauty, and brains too. Please come back soon."

"Thank you for this nice hairdo"

Betty carefully got out from under the dryer and gave me a hug too. I hugged
her back. I could feel her warm rollers against my cheek.

"Please come visit again"

"I'd like that, Monday OK'

"See you then"

I got on my bike and started home. I was eager to show my new hairdo to Mom.

I rode my bike home slowly. I remembered the sweaty ride home and my mom's
reaction. Besides, I really wanted to keep this new hairdo just as it was
when Mrs. Thomas finished it. She and Betty had been so nice to me.

I had to stop once to wait at a corner for traffic to clear. As I waited, a
little boy, younger than I am, walked around the corner.

"Hey girly, why are you riding a boy's bike?"

"Because I'm a boy, stupid"

"Well, you look like..."

He never finished. Maybe he realized that I was way bigger than he was, and
he should just shut up.

I reached home and put my bike in the garage. I came in the back door. Mom
was at the sink.

"Hi Mom, surprise!"

"Hi, Robbie."

Mom turned and looked at me

"You hair is adorable. I love those delicate curls on your forehead. And the
even curls on top look so...so sophisticated. Miss Ruth is quite an artist.

I hope you thanked her for her work. May I touch it?"

"Sure Mom"

Mom patted my hair lightly with one hand. It felt like she was patting my
whole head at the same time. I mean, all my hair seemed to be one piece. I
guess the spray had made it pretty stiff.

"She really lacquered it for you. If you're careful, this hairdo will last a
week."

"Mom I like this hairdo, and Mrs. Thomas was so nice, but...do you think I
look like a girl?"

"Will you ever stop worrying about that? You look like a very fine, very well
groomed, boy.'

"This kid, on the way home...He thought I was a girl!"

"Who is important to you? Your mother or some stupid kid on the street?" Mom
was getting angry again.

"You're most important, Mom"

"Well I say, I like the way you look. There are a lot of things about
grooming and behavior that boys would do well to learn from girls"

I really didn't want to get Mom angry. These last 2 or3 days, she had been
happier, friendlier than I could remember. That was worth a little teasing
from a stupid kid.

Mom was still looking at my hair. She was smiling.

"That is a fairly formal hairdo. I think I'll have to do something about
mine, so I don't look like a boy"

I looked at Mom's hair. It was the same color as mine, a kind of medium
brown. It was mostly straight and reached her shoulders. The ends curved in
toward her neck. Mom had bangs in the front, but usually brushed them to the
side. Sometimes, when she was going someplace fancy with Dad, she would go to
the salon and get her hair done.

"Robbie, would you help me do my hair? You've watched me, and you've watched
Miss Ruth, do yours, and I can always use some help with the back. I want to
do mine tonight, because Aunt May and cousin Jen are coming for the weekend,
while the painters are working on their apartment."

"Ok I'll try to help"

"Great, lets have dinner first"

We ate broiled chicken and salad. Mom likes salads. I wish she would make
more baked potatoes, they're my favorite.

After dinner, mom took a shower and washed her hair. She came to the kitchen
in a robe.

"Roller time, Mr. Robbie"

"What?"

"Just a joke...it seems that every hairstylist in America is Miss or
Mr...plus a first name."

"I'm not a hairstylist. That's a girls job."

"Don't start that boy's-girl's business again. Hairstyling is a useful,
gentle, peaceful job for anyone."

"I want to be a correction officer, like Uncle Todd"

"Wouldn't you rather spend your time making people beautiful and proud, than
spend it keeping them in cages?"

"But Uncle Todd is strong and tough"

"Uncle Todd is a bully. He chose a job where he can push people around and
abuse them. I really don't want you to grow up like that."

"I never thought of it that way."

Mom had put a bunch of hair setting stuff on the table in front of her. She
had rollers, clips, a hair net, her comb with the long tail, and the jar of
pink setting gel. She began comb her hair and to apply the gel.

"Please hand me a roller as I need it"

I handed Mom the rollers. She didn't have to ask me for rollers, I could see
when she was ready for one. Same with the clips. After she had the front of
her head covered with rollers, she asked me if I could roll up the back for
her.

I said I would try. The first roller seemed to take almost forever. It kept
slipping and twisting. The hair kept rolling off the end.

"Take your time dear, you'll get the knack"

I'd never seen Mom so patient before.

I finally got that one roller wound down to Mom's scalp. Mom had a clip ready
for me. Mom's clips weren't chrome like Mrs. Thomas'. Mom's were like a bobbi
pin, only much bigger. I tried to open the pin before using it. Mom saw me
struggling with it.

"You don't have to open the pin at all. Just hold it with the bent-up end on
the outside of the roller, where the hair is, and slide it onto the roller.
Be sure to put it very close to my scalp, so the roller doesn't unwind"

I did what Mom asked, while trying to be careful not to pull her hair. By the
5th or 6th roller, it was getting easier. It sure was much easier than when
Mom tried to get me to put a roller in my own hair. Mom made sure I used
enough setting gel. The gel seemed to help keep the hair on the roller.

"Wind the rollers a little tighter, if you can. I want the curls to be well
defined, like yours"

"I don't want to pull too hard, and hurt you"

"Don't worry, a little pulling is expected. Its just part of getting your
hair done."

I did some of the rollers, then Mom took over again and did the some hair at
the back of neck with just bobby pins. She called these "pin curls"

I don't think Mom really needed my help at all. I think she just wanted me to
try hair rolling again.

When all her hair was rolled up, Mom took the small mirror from the table and
carried it to the hall mirror. She used the two mirrors together to see all
parts of her head.

"Robbie, you did a fine job. You kept the four rows of rollers even, all the
way down. You seem to have a talent for this."

"Thanks Mom, but I'm not sure I really like doing hair"

"You may get to like it. Can you help me with something else?"

"Sure Mom."

"I'm going to sit under the dryer here in the kitchen. I can fold some
laundry while I'm sitting. Would you please empty the clothes dryer into the
basket, take your things to your room, hang them up, and bring the rest to
me."

"Sure Mom."

I went to the basement and pulled the clothes out of the dryer. There wasn't
much of mine, just two pairs of underpants, some socks, my new purple shirt
and my black chinos. I filled the basket, put my stuff on top, and went
upstairs. I put the basket on the table in front of Mom.

"Thanks Robbie."

I took few items and headed for my room. As I began to hang my shirt in the
closet, I noticed that it looked bigger than my other shirts.

"This must be Mom's, both shirts are the same color" I thought. I checked for
a size label. The first thing I spotted was a label that said "Suzie Q
Blouses, Your Mother and Daughter Collection."

The size label was a separate tag that said Ladies Medium. I looked at the
first label again. It was made of black material with the words sewed on.

I brought the purple shirt back into the kitchen.

"I think this one is yours"

Mom took it from me and looked at the label.

"Yes, I believe it is. This one must be yours"

She handed me the other purple shirt from the basket. I looked for the label.
Sure enough it had one label that said "Kids Large." I looked hard and saw
where another label had been cut away. Only a little edge was left, but sure
enough, it was black.

I was really afraid to ask Mom about the shirts. I guess I knew that they
were a matching set, a "Mother and Daughter" set.

I went to my room, hung up the shirt, and began to cry. I wanted Mom to love
me, but I was a boy, not a girl. I think I stayed there a long time. Finally,
I heard Mom's voice.

"Robbie, come here. I'm ready to take out the rollers."

I helped her take out the rollers and the pins from the pin curls. Her hair
was so shiny! Each curl was like a perfect roll of hair.

"Shall I wear my hair up for a change?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"You know, pinned up with lots of curls in back,

the way I have it done at the salon."

"Oh, I always called that 'Mom's Movie Star hairstyle'"

"That's so sweet. Will you help me do it?"

"It really looks hard to do"

"Well, we probably won't get it as perfect as the salon does, but we can try"

We must have put 30 bobbi pins and most of a can of spray on Mom's hair. When
we were finished, Mom seemed very happy with her style. I had learned how to
roll a curl around my finger, spray it, and wait until it dried a bit, before
pinning it in place.

"It will be a great waste of talent if you don't consider hairstyling as a
possible job some day"

Mom was standing next to me. We were both facing the big mirror. Both of us
with fancy hairdos. And I liked how we looked. Was I turning into a girl?

It was just too confusing.

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

"What sweetheart?"

"Well, when I accidentally took your purple shirt into my room, I saw the
label. That's how I knew for sure it was yours. It says it is a 'mother and
daughter blouse.' Is my purple shirt really the 'daughter' blouse?"

Mom's smile disappeared. She looked down at me, right into my eyes.

"Would it really bother you if it was a blouse? I want you to wear things
that are a bit more gentle and refined looking, sometimes. I am so proud of
the way you are learning to take care of your hair, that I want everyone who
sees us to know that you are my beautiful child. And I think its just plain
fun to wear matching clothes. My twin sister and I did it all the time."

"Is the shirt I'm wearing now, really a girls shirt too? It has no label
either."

"I'm not really sure. It may be. Boy's things don't usually come in such nice
colors and soft fabrics. Isn't it comfortable?"

"It is very comfortable, but I keep thinking about that kid who thought I was
a girl. Also, I like my hair this way, and it was fun learning to help you
with yours, but I know kids would make fun of me if they knew"

That did it. Mom changed in an instant. She took hold of both my upper arms
and squeezed her fingers into them.

"You little brat! I have had to deal with nasty, ungrateful men and boys all
my life. You are my child. You will do as I say, groom yourself to my
standards, and wear the clothes I give you. Otherwise, you will be punished."

Mom was shouting now. I was about to cry

"If you don't like it, you can take it up with your father, when and if he
ever gets back from this assignment in Australia. Do you understand?"

I was whimpering. "Yes"

"Yes, What?"

"Yes, Mom" I tried, not knowing what she wanted me to say.

"Try 'Yes, Mother' I'd like to hear how it sounds from you."

"Yes, Mother"

Mom softened her voice.

"Please let me delight in my beautiful child."

I looked up. There were tears in her eyes too.

Her grasp loosened, then turned into a hug. I hugged her back.

"Robbie, how about some milk and cookies before bed?"

I had milk. Mom had tea. We both had cookies.

I went up to my room and got ready for bed. After unbuttoning my shirt, it
was easy to get it over my head without disturbing a single curl. I realized
that unless I did something, my hair would probably get messed up while I
slept. I looked around my room for the hairnet I had used the night before. I
couldn't find it, even though I was fairly sure I had left it on the bureau.
Maybe Mom had an extra.

I put on my robe and went downstairs

"Mom, I'm ready to go to sleep, but I don't want to ruin Mrs. Thomas' work so
soon."

"Yes, and Aunt May is coming over with Jen in the morning. I guess we both
want to look nice."

"Do you have an extra hairnet. I can't seem to find the one I wore last
night."

"Those light 'invisible' nets are so easy to lose track of. Here, I bought
you something just for sleeping."

Mom got a bag from the table near the door, and handed me a cellophane
package. Inside was something pale blue, and silky looking. There was a piece
of paper in with it. It said in big, sweeping pink letters

"Sweet Dreams Slumber Cap Keeps your coif perfect all night"

There was a picture of a pretty lady putting some kind of a big hat over a
very large, curly hairstyle.

"Open it, try it on"

I did. It was made of the shiniest, smoothest cloth I had ever touched.

"Mom, What's a 'coif'?"

"Its short for a French word, 'coiffure' It means a hairstyle, usually a
fancy style. This cap will keep your style even better than a net. But don't
wear it over wet hair, your hair won't dry through it."

"Thanks, Mom. Do you have one too?"

"I have been wearing these since I first saw one in the store. I have three,
in different colors, but this one is yours."

I went back up to my room. I looked in the mirror. I definitely did not look
like the lady on the Slumber Cap package. I was happy about that.

Well, I wore the Sweet Dreams Slumber Cap to bed that night. I couldn't
remember ever sleeping with any kind of hat on before. But somehow the
thought that I was wearing this special "pretty hair" cap was very exciting.
I had trouble getting to sleep. I kept thinking about Jen coming over in the
morning and seeing my new, even fancier curls.

I kept trying to get comfortable by moving my pillow around. Every time my
fingers got near my face, I could smell the hairspray that had gotten on them
when I was helping Mom do her hair. I think I fell asleep sniffing the sweet
smell of my own fingers.

I woke up early on Saturday to Mom's knock on my door.

"Aunt May and cousin Jen are coming for breakfast. Better get dressed. No tee
shirts, remember your hair."

I didn't like the last part. I like to wear tee shirts. I have lots of them,
and they feel comfortable.

"Aw Mom, can't I wear a tee shirt? I'll be careful about getting it over my
head"

"You can pick any button up shirt you want."

"But I want to wear a tee shirt."

"That's it Robbie. Too much back talk. I'll pick a shirt for you."

Mom came up the stairs quickly and walked into my room. She opened my closet
and got out the pink shirt she had bought for me. She handed it to me.

"You wouldn't choose something acceptable, now I'll choose for you. Wear
this."

I saw that her blouse and my shirt were identical in color. I thought about
Jen's teasing.

"I won't wear another 'mother and daughter blouse.'"

"You'll wear just what I say you'll wear"

She tried to hand the shirt to me.

I turned my back.

Mom took my shoulders and turned me around.

"YOU PUT THIS ON NOW!"

Mom fingers were digging into my shoulder. I knew how angry she could get.

"Ok...Ok, I'll wear the stupid shirt."

"Finish getting dressed and get downstairs. They'll be here any minute. You
better not embarrass me any more today. I still have to decide how to punish
you for this scene."

Mom left. I started to put on the shirt. It was different from the purple
one. Back then I didn't know words like "pleats" or "ruffles," but I could
see that this blouse was fancier than the other one. I put it on and buttoned
it up. I was clumsy with the buttons. I guess I didn't know that girl's
clothes buttoned from a different side than boy's stuff either.

I remembered that Mom had been wearing fresh blue jeans. I figured maybe, she
would like it if we matched, and not punish me about the shirt. I found one
pair of jeans without worn-out knees and put them on. Then I remembered I
still had the Slumber Cap on. I carefully took it off in front of the mirror
and discovered that it had worked. I thought my hair still looked about how
it looked last night.

I hurried down stairs.

"Well, that's not too bad, but your hair got quite flattened. Stand in front
of the hall mirror."

Mom got hairspray and her comb. She lifted my hair with the pointy tail of
the comb while she sprayed it. She made me stay there while she did the same
thing to about 8 spots on my head. At last she seemed finished.

"Now, go sit down and don't move until the spray is dry. And don't touch your
hair."

I sat while Mom set the breakfast table. Her hair was "up" like she had left
it last night.

As I sat there, Mom handed me the napkins and silverware for the table.

"You can help with this, you know"

Aunt May and Jen arrived just as we finished setting the table. Jen sat down
across from me.

Mom wasn't sitting down yet. She was busy at the stove with coffee and eggs.
Aunt May was at the counter, pouring coffee.

"Oh how cute. Mother and daughter prairie blouses. Did you pick them out
together?" Jen was whispering, so only I could hear.

"And I see you have another new hairdo.

Did you have to sleep in rollers too? Because I did. My mother set my hair
last night, see? She said she wanted my hair to look as pretty as yours"

She swung her head around, and I could see waves and curls tumbling down her
back, instead of a single smooth, straight ponytail.

"I spent an uncomfortable night in rollers because of you, sissy boy, and
you're going to pay."

I was embarrassed, frightened, and angry, all at the same time.

Mom and Aunt May sat down, facing each other. Aunt May was on my left, Mom on
my right. Mom noticed Jen's hair and commented on how great it looked.

"She looks so pretty with it curled. Do you plan to curl it for her often?"

"Only for special occasions for now, but who knows? How about Robbie? He
looks perfectly darling. Did you buy a whole mother and son wardrobe?"

"No just the two tops for each that you've seen. You know, the matching jeans
today, were Robbie's choice. He could have picked any pants, but he chose to
complete the look."

I think paper would have caught fire on my face right then. Mom was talking
as if I enjoyed dressing like her daughter. Jen was blaming me for her
unwanted hairstyle, and threatening to get even with me. And Aunt May was
talking about me, as if I was Mom's Barbie doll.

Mom and May continued to discuss their pretty children, while Jen and I just
glared at each other. After breakfast, Mom sent us out to play in the yard.

"Would you like to play house Robbie? 'Robbie'...that's short for Roberta,
isn't it?

Jen was looking for trouble.

"I have some chalk. Shall I draw a hop scotch court on the sidewalk.? Oh no,
I guess it's too warm for hop scotch. You wouldn't want to get you hair all
damp and sticky from sweating. How about something quiet. Do you have any
Barbies?"

That did it.

"Shut up jerk! I'm just doing what my mom wants me to do."

"Yeah, and making me look bad. And making me have to sleep in rollers."

"Well, you look nice with curls, at least now you look like a girl."

"Well, you should know. You're Roberta the girly sweetheart little boy"

I don't really know what happened next, but we were rolling on the ground
hitting each other, shouting, and kicking all at the same time.

Mom and aunt May were coming toward us from the back porch, but we didn't
know it until Mom had me by the collar and aunt May had Jen by the hair. We
were both dragged inside. It was aunt May who spoke.

"It looks like you two cannot be trusted for a second. We will have to baby
sit for you, as if you were 4 year olds."

Mom took me into the other room.

"Normally, I wouldn't punish you in front of visitors, but you humiliated me
with that display of unthinking violence. I will have to make sure you know
what humiliation feels like, so you learn not to do it to others."

Mom pulled me back into the other room.

"First, apologize to Jen for your behavior"

"I'm sorry, Jen."

"Now apologize to me.'

"I'm sorry Mother."

"Sorry for what?"

"For fighting with Jen, for getting dirty, for everything I did" I was ready
to scream. I really wasn't sorry. Jen deserved it. Jen deserved worse.

Aunt May made Jen apologize too. I don't think

she meant it either.

"Evidently, looking neat and well groomed isn't quite enough to make sure you
both act civilized."

Aunt May was speaking.

"June, do you have any suggestions?"

June was my mom's name. Twin girls named May and June. I guess that was my
grandparent's humor. The old family story was that the twins were born 20
minutes apart. May was born 10 minutes before midnight on May 31st. And June
came into the world at 12:10 AM on June 1st.

"Well, we could make them be nice to each other, and sit here and watch, so
they have no choice"

"I like that idea. Jen could also learn to do a few chores around the house.
She acts like it's all too much trouble for her to bother with."

"Now that they've rolled around in the mud like pigs, they could start by
doing some laundry...their own."

Jen sat glaring at everyone and absentmindedly playing with her long hair. A
small, green caterpillar fell from her head to the floor.

"Yah! Ugh get it away from me!" Jen shouted.

Aunt May looked at Jen coldly.

"Just pick it up and put it outside. In time it will turn into a beautiful
delicate creature, instead of a repulsive crawly. You could take a lesson
from that."

Jen looked horrified, but did as she was told.

"A pair of shampoos and sets might be in order as well." added Mom.

"You're right May. They do seem a bit rebellious about the requirements of
good grooming right now, but they have to learn to look and act civilized."

We were both sent to take showers and wash our hair. Jen went first. She had
a robe and spare clothes with her. I guess the clothes were what Aunt May
made her bring for church on Sunday morning. Her stuff was in the spare room.
I guess Aunt May had put it there while we were outside. Jen sure hadn't
carried anything upstairs.

She came out dressed in a pale green short sleeved dress that came to her
knees. She had sneakers on without socks. Her long damp hair hung loose down
her back. It looked like a wet cape.

Aunt May was waiting for her in the hall.

"Jennifer, what did I tell you about shoes?"

Jen looked at her feet.

"Mom, I hate those shoes you bought me. Can't I wear these? We're just in the
house."

"Get back in there and change. You need some practice in being a lady"

Jen walked past me, back into the spare room.

"See what you started, sissy-boy." she whispered as she passed.

I decided to keep my mouth shut. I showered. The only shampoo and conditioner
in the bathroom were the ones Mom uses. I left the shower in a robe, with
sweet smelling hair that felt soft and smooth.

Mom had laid out clothes on my bed. There were tan chinos, a light green
sport shirt and loafers. I guess Jen wasn't the only one to be a bit more
dressed up than usual.

"Come down here when you finish dressing"

I dressed quickly, and brushed back my wet hair. I didn't want to get Mom any
angrier.

When I got to the kitchen, Jen was already there, sitting quietly. The table
was just about covered with hair setting equipment. I recognized Mom's bowl
of rollers. There was a big shoebox full of more rollers. Some were plastic,
like Mom's, but some looked like wire springs covered with brown netting.
There was a brand new, full jar of setting gel. There were three combs, all
of them the same kind, with long tails. There were also hairnets, pink tape,
and something that looked like a pack of very tiny Kleenexes.

"Welcome to the May and June Salon, where we believe that a pretty child is a
well behaved child."

Mom was actually smiling as she said that.

"Let's start with Jen."

Mom and Aunt May stood on opposite sides of Jen's chair and began to comb her
long hair.

When they had gotten it all very smooth, Mom called me.

"Robbie, would you help us roll up Jen's long hair?"

I really did not want to be part of what Jen was sure to consider a
punishment.

"I'd rather not, Mom."

"I didn't mean to give you a choice. You will help set Jen's hair, and she
will help roll you up."

It was hard to roll Jen's hair properly. I discovered that with such long
hair, you have to start with only a few strands. Otherwise, by the time the
roller is all rolled, there is hair falling off the ends.

Mom showed how to use the little tissues, 'end papers', she called them, to
help get the hair started on the roller.

Aunt May told me to "make the rollers nice and tight. We want Jen's curls to
last."

"Ouch, you're pulling my hair"

"Don't mind her, Robbie, you're doing just fine.

She just has to get used to a little discomfort, it's part of being pretty."

It took lots of rollers to finish Jen's set. By the time we were done, we had
used up all the plastic rollers and most of the wire ones. There was a good
sized dent in the new jar of gel as well.

Jen got her turn to roll my hair. Mom picked out the smallest curlers in her
bowl for Jen to use. She made sure Jen rolled them neatly. Jen didn't need
any encouragement to make them tight. She made sure she pulled good and hard
on each one. I made up my mind not to say anything. I figured Mom wouldn't
let her pull my hair out by the roots.

When we were both rolled up to Mom and Aunt May's satisfaction, they added
the finishing touches. Aunt May put some extra gel on my bangs and formed
them into little curls, flat against my forehead. She put a strip of tape
across them to hold them there.

Mom took four of the small rollers, like the ones on my head, and after
unrolling one roller on each side of Jen's head, put in the four small
rollers.

"These will form the prettiest tendrils around your face"

Each of our heads got covered with a hairnet. This time mine was pale blue,
and Jen's was pink.

Mom showed us where to put all the stuff away.

Then she brought Jen and me down to the basement and had us put our dirty
clothes in the washer. My pink shirt, (I couldn't quite call it a "blouse" in
my mind, even though it really was one.) went into the wash along with my
jeans and socks. So did Jen's blue tee shirt and her blue shorts and socks.
Our underwear went in too.

"While this stuff is washing, you two can play a quiet game."

We went upstairs and got out some board games. Our hearts weren't in it. I
tried, knowing that I couldn't go outside wearing rollers and a hairnet. Not
here. Not on my own block.

Mom and aunt May watched us all the time, so we wouldn't get into another
fight. We did have a rather short and cut-throat attempt at Monopoly, but it
became obvious that it would be a long day.

Mom kept trying to get us to talk to each other, but mostly we just exchanged
dirty looks.

Mom set up lunch while Aunt May "baby sat." After lunch, we had to do the
dishes. Mom gave each of us an apron to wear. Mine had pictures of food on
it. Jen's was decorated with pictures of plants, flowers and butterflies.
They were both tied in the back with big white bows.

When we finished the dishes, aunt May said it was time for us to learn to
iron. The she had taken our things out of the dryer while they were still
damp. The ironing board was in the basement. I had to do my things and Jen
had to do hers. It took me a long time to get the hang of it.

My pink shirt was the toughest to do.

The afternoon continued much as the morning had, except we were allowed to
watch some television.

At about three in the afternoon, Mom realized she had to go shopping. She
asked aunt May to stay and watch us. As soon as Mom was gone, aunt May asked
to see our hands.

"I see you both have dirty fingernails. Well, we can fix that."

She brought us into the bathroom and made us scrub under our nails with a
brush.

"Now let's see what we can do to keep you more aware of how your hands look"

She made us wait in the hall while she got some things from Mom's room.

Back at the kitchen table, she showed us how to file our nails smooth. Then
she opened a tiny bottle and painted something on Jen's thumbnails. It was
the palest pink. When she asked for my hand I held back.

"No, nail polish is for girls. I don't want any."

Jen began to laugh. "You look like a girl to me already."

"Be quiet Jen, this is between Robbie and me."

"I'm just saying, he is so pretty, he could be a girl."

Aunt May gave Jen a dirty look and continued.

"Robbie, lots of men wear clear nail polish. It doesn't show, it just
protects your nails."

I finally let her do my thumbnails.

She pointed out how she did them, with just three strokes each. She then had
Jen do the rest of my left hand. Then I had to do Jen's left hand. Jen did my
right hand, and we had to wait until it dried. Finally I did Jen's right
hand.

When Mom returned, aunt May made us show her our nails. Mom seemed very
pleased that we

were both wearing nail polish.

Just before dinner, Mom asked me to change clothes again.

"Could you put on your pink blo...er shirt and those nice neat jeans you were
wearing this morning? I like how we looked wearing matching outfits."

I got my clothes from the basement and went up to change. Jen and aunt May
were looking at a magazine in the living room. I returned to find Mom putting
polish on her nails. I thought I'd give mine a fresh coat too.

I noticed her nails were now the same pale, transparent pink as mine, rather
than her usual bright red.

The evening passed with dinner, cleanup, and TV.

Jen and I were weren't nearly as angry as we had been earlier. As bedtime
approached, I asked Mom about taking out our rollers.

"I don't think so, not until morning. Your hair may be dry, but Jen's isn't.
Besides, sleeping with them in, will give you something to think about before
you act like animals again."

As I got ready for bed, I kept thinking about what the night would be like.
How hard is it to sleep in rollers? Is it really as bad as Jen and Betty
Thomas say? I guess I was going to find out.

Jen and I were getting along pretty well by the end of the day. Aunt May had
helped Mom put some clips in her hair to hold the curls in place, and mom had
put a Slumber Cap on too.

Mom had braided aunt May's hair in one of those braids that was attached to
her head from where it started at the top, all the way down to her neck. Mom
called it a French braid. She didn't braid all of aunt Mays hair. She put
setting gel on some of the front hair and rolled it into flat curls. Each
curl was held with two crossed bobbi pins. Aunt May said pin curls were easy
to sleep with. Aunt May had blonde streaks in her mostly brown hair. The
streaks really made the pattern of the braid stand out.

We had a snack before bed. We were all sitting around the table. Jen and I
were in rollers and hairnets. Mom had her cap on, and aunt May's hair was
braided and pinned.

I went to my room and Jen went to the spare room.

It wasn't easy to get to sleep. At first, I thought I was comfortable. Within
a few minutes, I could feel a roller pressing hard against the side of my
head. I would turn my head and the same thing would happen again. I tried
sleeping on my back, my sides, even on my belly. Nothing really worked until
I had twisted and rolled my pillow into a tight little pile that fit under
one cheek and my neck. Then I got to sleep...for a while. Wow, if it's this
hard to sleep with a few rollers in my short hair, imagine what Jen is going
through, with her very long hair, and about 40 or 50 rollers!

By morning I was sleepy, and a bit sore. We all had breakfast in our robes.
Mom had lent Jen a special "roller pillow" that looked a little like a
horseshoe. Jen said sleeping on it wasn't great, but it was possible. I think
Jen and I spent about the same kind of night.

Mom took down aunt May's pin curls while I took out Jen's rollers. Jen told
me her head itched. I gently rubbed her scalp with my fingertips, being
careful not to tangle her fresh curls. Jen took out my rollers and removed
the tape from my forehead. My gel curls were still stuck firmly to my skin.
They were as shiny as glass.

Aunt May took over with Jen's hair and brushed it up, and back from her
forehead. She used lots of spray and a few bobbi pins. Soon, Jen had a very
elaborate hairstyle. The front was high and smooth. Waves and curls cascaded
down her back like a waterfall. The four small rollers were still in place.
Aunt May had asked me not to take them out.

Mom brushed through my curls very gently, leaving them pretty tight. She
loosened the gel curls on my forehead a bit, but mostly left them

shiny and stiff.

"Now don't play with these gel curls. You can touch them now, to see what
they feel like, but leave them alone after that. They lose their shine if you
touch them too much."

"I like how they look. I won't mess them up"

Mom finished my hairdo with spray,I had a mass of curls again. Curls
everywhere.

We all got dressed. Mon and aunt May wore light short sleeve dresses in pale
colors. Jen wore the same pale green dress she had worn yesterday. She didn't
complain about having to wear her "dressy" shoes this time.

Mom had put out clothes for me again. This time it was dark green chinos and
a light green shirt that matched Jen's dress.

When we were almost ready to leave, Aunt May took out the last four rollers
from the sides of Jen's head. She gently stretched the curls down to form
several open spirals on each side. Jen looked like a picture in a storybook.

Mom made us all stop in front of the mirror before we left the house.

"We can all be very proud of how our family looks. Robbie and Jen, we are
depending on to act appropriately."

Jen and I looked at each other. I was still a bit angry with her over how she
had teased me, but she hadn't done any of that this morning. Jen looked at me
and then looked back at her reflection in the mirror. She half smiled at
herself, and then we all headed out the door.

As we walked to the car, I looked at Mom, aunt May and Jen. I realized we all
had fresh, pretty hairdos. All our curls had been carefully set with rollers,
pins or clips. All our hair was held by spray.

Even though it was on the warm side that morning, and this was way before
cars had air conditioning, we only opened the windows a crack. None of us
wanted to get their hair messed up, not even Jen.

Mom was smiling from ear to ear as we greeted the minister and his wife and
entered the church. The minister's wife whispered something to Mom. All I
could make out was,

"...Like a little angel."

The church service dragged on, as usual. The sermon was about "The Blessing
of Peace." He kept emphasizing the need to behave in a humble, peaceful way,
and Mom kept looking over at me.

The service finally ended. We were walking back to the car when someone came
up behind me and covered my eyes with their hands.

"Guess who."

"Give me a clue"

"I know how you got your curls"

"Hello, Betty Thomas."

I turned around and there was Betty. She was wearing a white blouse and a
dark green skirt.

Her hair was curled in those "ringlets" her mother had described to me on
Friday afternoon. The curls hung down onto her shoulders and bounced with
every move of Betty's head.

"Ooo Robbie, you have those adorable little curls on your forehead. You look
so sweet. I couldn't help noticing them during the service. My mother said
they used to be called 'spit curls' but now, hairstylists call them 'gel
curls.' Sometimes people call them 'kiss curls,' and I know why."

With that, she put her hands on the sides of my face, pulled me toward her
and kissed me right on my forehead! I could feel myself turning as red as

a beet. I was very uncomfortable, but I knew I

had to say something to be polite.

"You look very nice too. Are those the ringlets your mother did for you on
Friday?"

"Yes, I was careful not to mess up my hair. I thought I might see you here
today, and I wanted you to see these curls. After all, you helped create them
by fixing our dryer."

Betty's ringlets kept bouncing as she spoke.

"Well, gotta' go now. See you on the school bus tomorrow"

Betty ran back to join her mother. Jen was walking next to me.

"So that's it Rob, you haven't been getting your hair done just to please
your mother, you have a girlfriend who likes pretty boys too."

"Betty is not my girlfriend"

"I saw her plant that kiss on your forehead. I may be a tomboy sometimes, but
I am a girl, and I can tell. Betty has a big crush on you."

I didn't know what to say. At the time, I was just getting over thinking that
all girls were completely yucky. I didn't have many guy friends either. I
think that was because I found most sports too boring to play or watch.
Mostly, I liked bike riding, and really enjoyed tinkering with mechanical
stuff. I liked animals too, but Mom was anti-pet.

We all got into the car and headed home. Jen and I were both eager to get out
of out church clothes and have lunch. The weather had clouded up while we
were in church, and it began to rain while we were driving home.

"If this rain keeps up, you kids aren't going to be able to play outside this
afternoon. June, I read that a new exhibit just opened at the science museum.
We could take Robbie and Jen to see it. What do you think?"

"I think it would be better than having them in the house all afternoon.
We'll have a quick lunch at home, then go to the museum"

At home, Mom put out sandwiches and milk for Jen and me. Aunt May and Mom had
coffee with their sandwiches.

"Can I get out of this dress. I'd rather go to the museum in jeans. My other
stuff is clean and dry now"

"Yeah, Mom, I would like to change too"

Mom and aunt May looked at each other. It was Mom who spoke.

"I'm not sure you two have fully learned your lesson about how to behave
toward each other yet, but you are improving. I think the clothes have
something to do with it. Keep your church clothes on for now."

We ate and left for the museum. Mom and aunt May didn't change clothes
either. They were still kind of "Sunday" looking.

The museum was filled with kids, most with their parents. In front of one
exhibit case, I found myself standing next to Tom Brandon, a kid in my class.

"Hi Tom"

"Hi Rob"

"Hey Rob, those curls on your forehead make you look so sweet. You look like
a..."

He paused in mid sentence

"Err...they look nice"

He looked up, past my shoulder. I turned to follow his look. My mother was
looking down at him with her best stern look. Beside her was another woman.
She spoke.

"Tom, don't tease that boy about his hair. When you were a baby you had
adorable curls. I'm sorry I ever had your hair cut short. Maybe this summer
we can see if your hair is still curly when it grows out."

Tom walked away behind his mother. He shot me a dirty look over his shoulder.

Jen and I were trying out one exhibit. It had ropes and pulleys for lifting
weights. The guide was showing us how easy it is to lift a heavy weight by
using the right kind of pulley.

Jen and I were pulling the rope, hand over hand. The guide seemed to be
staring at out hands. Why? Then I remembered we had on matching pale pink
nail polish. There was no doubt about it. At home the nail polish looked
almost colorless, but in this light it was definitely pink! The bright
exhibit lighting glinted off out fingernails. Jen and I had matching nails.

I finished pulling up the weight and lowered it to the floor. As quickly as
possible, I stuck my hands in my pockets. I could feel my cheeks getting red.
I felt very uncomfortable. More and more people were noticing these "girlish"
things about how I looked. I had to talk to Mom.

I tried not to show my hands any more than necessary for the rest of our
museum visit.

We got home about six and ate a light dinner.

Aunt May had called and spoken with the painters. She said they were
finished. Aunt May and Jen left soon after dinner.

Mom and I were alone.

"Mom, do I have to keep this nail polish on? I think the guide at the museum
noticed it, and that embarrassed me."

"Well, it was part of the punishment for fighting with Jen, but I think
you've learned to act like a gentleman. You may remove it now. I'll show you
how."

Mom brought nail polish remover and cotton and we cleaned off the polish.

"Robbie, there is only one more week of school left this year."

"I know. I can't wait until it ends."

"Do you want to wear curls this week, or go back to your old hairstyle?
Remember, even if you go back, you'll have to use gel or hair trainer and
keep it neatly groomed every day. I will be insisting on well-groomed hair
from now on. Personally, I like the curls, but it's your choice."

I thought about Betty's comment about other boys and their Howdy Doody
hairstyles.

"I'll keep it curled for now."

Mom smiled and hugged me.

"I think you made the right choice. You look so adorable with a head full of
curls."

"Mom, there is one thing I'd like to change though."

"What is that?"

"Well, these gel curls that Aunt May did on my forehead....Betty Thomas
called them 'kiss curls,' and you know what Tom Brandon was about to say when
you and his mother stopped him..."

"Yes I know. I think his mother was so humiliated by his behavior that she
may come up with some punishment of her own for him. But these may be a bit
too dressy for school."

She gently fingered one or two of the stiff curls on my forehead.

"We can just wet these and set them differently for tomorrow. The rest of
your hairdo looks fine."

I went to sleep in rollers again that night, the second night in a row. This
time there were only three rollers, all in the front and wound toward the
back. I had the same pink hairnet on, the one with the tiny bows around the
edge. I still thought it looked silly on me. Sleeping was easy this time.

With only three rollers, it wasn't hard to get comfortable.

In the morning, I got dressed before I unrolled my hair. I found I could ease
a Tee shirt on without messing up my hair at all. Mom helped me brush the
curls up in the front. She did something with her comb that she called "back
combing." Mom said it was to add height. She told me to spray the front first
and to let the spray dry for a few minutes. She showed me how to position one
or two curls when the spray was half-dry. Then, Mom made sure I used lots of
spray all over my head.

"It's going to be humid today and you don't want your curls to droop by
lunchtime."

Mom hugged me as I walked out to get the bus. She whispered. "Keep your
hairdo neat, and I'll have a nice surprise for you when you get home."

Betty Thomas was already in the bus.

"Come here, I saved you a seat."

I sat down next to her. Was wearing a pink short sleeved blouse with little
pictures of kittens (of course) on it. She was wearing white shorts. Her
reddish ringlets were tied back with a white bow, into a high ponytail.

"I see you changed your hair again. I hope I didn't make you too self
conscious about those sweet little curls on your forehead."

"I'll probably wear them again sometime, but both Mom and I thought they were
a little too dressy for school. Actually, I liked the style your mother did
for me. If it wasn't for my stupid cousin Jen teasing me until we got into a
fight, I would have kept those petal curls as long as I possibly could. How
was your aunt's wedding shower?"

"It was fun. Some of the gifts were useful, but some were just funny.

What happened between you and your cousin? If you want to talk about it."

"Nothing much. It happened Saturday morning. She called me a name, I
answered, and before I knew it, we were on the ground fighting. We both
needed showers and shampoos after that."

"So that's how she got that fancy updo"

"Yeah, her mom and mine decided to make us both sleep in rollers and then
dress us up for church."

"Whatever the reason, I thought you looked just perfect with those little
curls. Please do them again for my party."

With that, she reached into her school bag, took out a small envelope and
handed it to me.

"Open it."

It was an invitation to an "End of School, Start of Summer" party. It was
going to be on Saturday.

The day went quickly. Mom was in the kitchen when I got home. She looked at
me.

"You look fine. Ready for your surprise?"

I had forgotten all about this morning's promise.

"Since you've decided to wear curls, I thought you might like some things of
your own. We're going shopping for your hair styling supplies."

Mom seemed to be in a hurry, so I dropped my book bag, gulped my milk, and
joined her in the car. She drove to a Woolworth store about a mile from home.

"We will be able to buy almost everything you need right here. If we can't
find something here, we'll go to the beauty supply store. Let's try to get
what can here, the prices will be better."

We went to the "beauty" counter. Mom asked me to pick out what I thought I
would need.

I got a black rat-tail comb, two packages of plastic rollers, some roller
clips, end papers, hair setting tape, a dark blue "setting" hairnet, a
package of brown "invisible" hairnets, a jar of setting gel and a can of
super hold hairspray.

We looked for a dryer, but Mom didn't like the ones they had. Mom gave me
money and made me bring all the stuff to the counter and pay for it.

The cashier was an older woman. She looked at my basket full of hair setting
supplies and then at me. She didn't say anything, but I think she was looking
at my hair as she said...

"Enjoy your purchases, and have a nice day."

We locked my bag of hair setting supplies in the trunk of the car and walked
down the street toward an appliance store. On the way, we passed a big news
stand.

"Mom, can we stop here for a minute. I'd like to get a magazine."

"Sure, we have plenty of time."

Back then, there were about five or six monthly magazines with titles like
"Popular Mechanics," "Popular Science," "Mechanix Illustrated." I couldn't
get enough of them. They had a mix of articles about everything from low cost
helicopters, to building a rowboat, to fixing your TV set. I began to leaf
through the selection to decide on my choice. Mom was leafing through
magazines at the other end of the rack.

"Mom, I picked one out. I'll pay for it."

"No need, I'll pay for it. But first, I'd like you to look at these. You may
want to get another magazine as well."

I carried my magazine to where Mom was standing. On the rack in front of her
were magazines with names like "Hairdo" and "Hairstyle"

These magazines had pictures of pretty young women on the covers. One had a
large picture of a woman with her hair all in tight little curls. There were
smaller pictures of other women on the cover as well. All had more or less
curly hairstyles. Printed on the cover was "Try these cool curly styles for
summer. Complete setting instructions inside." I felt a little uncomfortable
about picking up one of these magazines and looking through it.

There was no doubt in my mind that these were "women's magazines" while my
choice was a "men's magazine."

"Look through it Robbie, it won't bite you"

I opened the magazine and began to turn the pages. On nearly every page was a
picture of a girl or woman with a very pretty hairstyle. There were drawings
of how to wind the rollers, and put in the pin curls for each style.

The style of the drawings seemed to be more like blueprints or plans, than
like pictures. They reminded me of the plans for building as model. They had
arrows to show the direction to wind the rollers and where to put the pin
curls. There were even a few photos of girls in rollers.

"Would you like to get one of these books? We could both try out some of the
styles during the summer."

"I guess so."

I picked out the magazine with the curly styles on the cover. The other
magazines were interesting too, but everyone in them had much longer hair
than I did. Mom got one of those. She said her hair was long enough to try
lots of the styles.

"You know Robbie, you may want to try one or two of these some day too."

Mom took the three magazines to the cashier and paid for them.

At the appliance store, we found a hairdryer that Mom liked. It had white
soft plastic hood with tiny yellow flowers printed on it. The hood looked
like a huge shower cap. A flexible hose connected the hood to the table-top
part. The whole thing fit in a case shaped like a drum, with a zipper around
the edge. Mom said the hood was called a "bonnet."

It came in a cardboard box with a picture on it of a woman using the dryer.
She was sitting a table with the "bonnet" on her head. She seemed to be
polishing her nails as she waited for her hair to dry. There was some
information on the box about the dryer.

"1000 Watts of drying power. Dries even long hair quickly.

Extra large bouffant bonnet, easy to wear over big rollers.

Handy nail dryer door, dries your nails quickly with comfortable warm air."

As it turned out, the dryer was on special sale this week. We bought it, and
carried it back to the car.

We drove home.

I didn't have any homework. It was the last week of school, and the teacher
was giving us a break. I remembered the invitation from Betty and showed it
to Mom.

"I wish you had shown this to me before we went shopping. We could have
shopped for a nice outfit for you to wear to the party."

"Do I really need new clothes? It's just a kids party."

"Well, not fancy clothes, but something fresh and, you know, 'summery'"

" I never thought about what I would wear."

"Well, you should think about it. I'm sure some of the other children are
picking their outfits pretty carefully."

"Can I ask Betty what she is going to wear?"

"You can ask her what kind of party it is going to be."

"Now, let's get your hair things put away."

We brought everything we had bought into my room. We found a spot for the
dryer on my dresser. It was too high to use it there, but Mom said I could
move it to my desk when I was actually setting my hair.

We made room in a drawer by combining my socks and underwear into one drawer.
The rollers, clips, gel, comb, tape, and hairnets all went into the empty
drawer. Mom added a card of bobbi pins.

"We forgot to get these at the store. You never know when you may need them."

"All this talking about hair is making my head itch"

"It's not the talking, it's just the spray and the warm weather. You'd
probably be more comfortable if you washed it and then gave yourself a fresh
hairdo. Would you like to try out the new things you got?"

"I guess I could use a nice cool shower,"

"There is still plenty of time before dinner."

I showered and shampooed my hair. I used the conditioner Mom had left in the
bathroom. I was getting used to the sweet smell and soft feel of my hair. I
dressed quickly.

Mom tossed me the "Hairdo" magazine.

"Pick a style you like. Let's see what we can do with your new equipment."

I really felt silly now. What had I gotten myself into? Here I was, about to
pick out a curly hairdo from a girl's hairstyling magazine and get my hair
set in that style. Get my hair set? Heck, Mom was probably going to make me
practice setting my own hair. I looked through the magazine without much
interest.

I got to the back of the magazine without picking a style and was starting to
go through it again.

"Robbie, pick a style or I'll pick one for you"

"Mom, I think I've changed my mind. I'd rather just comb my hair the old way.
But I will use my new gel to keep it in place."

"Well, they say it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, but you're not
a woman are you?"

"Of course not, I'm a boy"

"And you did let me spend all that money on hair supplies and a brand new
dryer for you. I am going to require that you set your hair this evening, a
commitment is a commitment. Now pick a style, right now."

I quickly flipped the pages of the magazine and found a style with neat
looking curls. All the girl's hair on the top of her head was curly. The
sides were kind of straight and brushed back. The girl was sitting on a
horse. She almost looked boyish.

"I like this one"

"Well...OK. A bit plain for my taste, but I guess it will do for the last
week of school."

The style was called "Curly, not frilly" There was a paragraph that described
it as "...perfect for the girl with short hair and an active life." There was
also a setting diagram that showed 8 rollers on top and bobbi pins along the
sides.

The instructions for the style said to "Set the top tightly on 3/4 inch
rollers with gel or setting lotion. Smooth the sides back and pin in place.
When dry, comb out gently to keep the curls well defined. Tease the sides a
little for fullness. Spray well to keep this cute style picture perfect,
while you enjoy the great outdoors."

"Let's get started, Robbie. Comb out the tangles and section off hair for the
first roller."

"Shouldn't I put the gel on first?"

"No, you're going to do this whole roll-up yourself, if you can. It will
probably take you a while to get each roller in, and your hair will be drying
the whole time. I'll show you how to gel each section of hair just before you
roll it, so the hair will go onto the roller easier, and the set will take
better. Get out your package of smaller rollers, they're the right size. Get
out your roller clips too."

I got everything I needed from the drawer. I sat on my desk chair. Mom had
moved my mirror from the wall above my dresser, to the wall above my desk,
about two days ago. Now, I knew why.

I used my rat-tail comb to comb my hair straight and smooth. I sectioned off
some hair at the front of my head. My hair wasn't very long at the time, just
about 2 or 3 inches. Mom showed me how to hold the section with my left hand
while I put down the comb, and dipped the fingers of my right hand into the
gel. The gel felt cool and slippery. I put the gel onto the lock of hair.

The hair stuck easily to the roller. I wound it down to my head. It went
about a turn and a half.

"Now tighten it"

I rolled a tiny bit further, so I could feel just a bit of tugging against my
scalp. I held the roller with my left hand while I put a clip in against my
scalp so it wouldn't unroll. Mom told me to use a second clip from the other
end. The first roller was in place, right above my left eyebrow.

The next roller went in beside the first one, over my right eyebrow.

The second pair was much harder to do than the first. It was harder to see
what I was doing, and harder to reach. I had to make sure the section was
right. Mom made me do one of the rollers three times until I got the section
right and the roller wound smooth.

By the time I got to the last roller, my hair was almost dry. Now I
understood about the need to gel each section as I went along.

"Now do the sides"

I reached for the gel.

"Wait a minute"

Mom walked out of the room and came right back. She had the bottle of that
sticky "Hair Trainer for Unruly Hair" with her.

"Use this on the sides."

"But the magazine says to use gel or setting lotion."

"I'll tell you a secret. This is setting lotion. It's the same stuff with a
different label."

"You mean, a lot of boys use setting lotion, and don't know it?"

"They sure do."

Mom showed me how to pour the lotion onto the comb and comb it through my
hair. I combed the sides back. They stayed in place by themselves.

"I don't think I need any pins to hold the sides."

"Put them in, so the dryer doesn't blow your hair around."

When the pins were in place, Mom handed me my new dark blue setting net. I
carefully put it over the rollers with the tails hanging down in front, just
as Mrs. Thomas had done. I brought the tails around, and tried to tie them in
back. Mom had to help me tie a firm bow behind my head.

We set the dryer on my desk and put the bonnet on my head. Soon I was
relaxing as the warm air flowed around my face. The dryer smelled like new
plastic. That smell mixed with the various sweet smells from my hair.

"Here is something to read while your drying"

Mom handed me the "Hairdo" magazine and her "Hairstyle" magazine. I wondered
where I had left my "Mechanix Illustrated."

I sat there reading for more than half an hour. There were so many hairstyles
in the magazines! I tried imagining myself wearing some of them. Most of them
needed much longer hair than mine. Mom always made me get a haircut as soon
as she thought my hair was getting even a tiny bit too long. Would she still
do that now, what with all the hair setting she seemed to want me to do? I
guess I should admit it, I was getting to enjoy all this attention to my
hair. Should I ask Mom about skipping a few haircuts?

As my hair dried, the rollers seemed to get tighter. I guess this had
happened the last time I sat under a drier too, but I must have been too
excited to notice.

After a while, I had to go to the bathroom. I shut off the dryer and pulled
the hose out of the dryer's base. I went to the bathroom with the bonnet
still on my head and the hose tucked into my belt, so it wouldn't pull on the
bonnet. That was my idea.

Before I hooked up the hose again, I decided to see if my hair was dry. I
reached under the bonnet and felt one roller. The hair felt dry and stiff. I
carefully took off the bonnet and checked the other rollers. They all felt
the same. They were still a bit warm, but they were dry.

"Mom, I think I'm ready for the comb out."

I was proud I had remembered the phrase. Mom came up to my room and felt my
rollers.

"They seem dry to me. Let's let them cool a while. It helps lock in the curl
shape."

Mom helped me remove the bonnet without disturbing the net or the rollers and
pins. I looked at myself in the mirror as soon as I got the bonnet off. There
was no doubt about it. With the rollers and setting net, I looked something
like some of the pictures in the Hairdo magazine. I looked like a boy,
getting his hair done like a girl. And, rather than being ashamed, or
thinking I looked silly, I felt warm and excited all over. This was fun. I
think I was beginning to understand why girls paid so much attention to their
hair.

"Robbie, that's not nice. Take your hand away from there."

Without thinking, while looking at myself in the mirror, I had put my hand on
my pants, down near my fly. I don't know why I did it except that I felt very
warm there.

"Robbie, that part of you is private. It isn't nice to touch it when anyone
else is around."

I wanted to change the subject real quick.

"Mom, can we finish my hair? I really want to see this style on me."

"Do you really want the rollers out now? You know, the curls will look better
for school tomorrow, if the rollers stay in until morning."

I wanted to see the finished style, and I wasn't that happy about sleeping on
rollers again. Then I looked in the mirror again and decided to wait until
morning.

If Jen and Betty could sleep in dozens of rollers with their long hair, I
could sleep with just eight of them anytime. Besides, my rollers were just on
top of my head. On the sides of my head, where my head touched the pillow,
were just a few bobbi pins, holding the hair smooth and even.

"Ok Mom, I'll keep the rollers in until morning."

"Good, lets get ready for dinner."

I helped Mom set the table. This time Mom had me cut up the lettuce and slice
a tomato. I felt proud to be using a sharp knife.

We ate hamburgers with the fresh lettuce and tomato on them. After dinner,
Mom we had my favorite dessert, strawberry ice cream. Just as I was spooning
up the last of my ice cream, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Welmont, the lady from
across the street, was in the house before I remembered what I had in my
hair.

I didn't know where to run, or how to hide. As much as I was starting to
enjoy doing my hair, I knew what almost everyone thought of boys who "copied"
what girls did. I didn't want Mrs. Welmont to see me in rollers, bobbi pins,
and a hair net.

Mom and Mrs. Welmont were standing in the hall. I couldn't get past unseen,
and escape up the stairs, or even down to the basement. The back door led
straight from the kitchen to the back yard, but the next door neighbors were
outside grilling their dinner at a small barbecue pit. I just sat there as
Mom and her friend came into the kitchen.

"Jane, would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Oh that would be lovely, thank you"

She answered Mom, but she was looking straight at me!

Mom served the coffee to Mrs. Welmont and poured a cup for herself.

"Robbie, would like something to drink as well?"

"No thanks, Mom. Could I please be excused?"

"Of course. You're excused."

I got up and began to walk toward the door.

"Robbie, would you wait a moment please?"

My stomach hit the floor.

"Sure Mrs. Welmont"

"I couldn't help noticing your hair. I don't want to be impolite, but I just
have to ask. Why the set?"

My mind had been racing as she spoke. I ran through all the excuses I could
think of. "Crazy Clothes Day" at school, costume party...nothing sounded any
good.

"I guess I just got tired of the same old hairstyle."

"So you decided to curl your hair like a...?"

"So he decided to try curling it for a while. I think he looks great with
curls"

Mom had interrupted Mrs. Welmont. That was great, but I still thought Mrs.
Welmont was being a bully. Since Mom had already excused me from the table, I
knew I could leave now. I still wanted to say something to that old pest. I
got up and began to walk out of the room. At the door I turned toward Mrs.
Welmont and said

"Besides, Why should girls have all the fun? Good night."

I saw Mrs. Welmont's mouth open as if to say something, but I was out of the
room before I heard any sound come out of it.

I went up the stairs, opened my door and closed it, without going into my
room. I stood quietly in the hall. Mrs. Welmont was a loudmouth, in addition
to being a bully. I could hear every word.

She had come over to speak to my mother about her upcoming party, for next
week. It wasn't a birthday, or anything like that. The best I could make out,
she would be selling stuff at the party. Pretty soon, she got back to talking
about my hair.

"Do you think it's a good idea to let him do that with his hair? I guess you
do, I don't think a boy could set his hair like that without some help."

"Robbie looks so nice in curls. He is learning to be careful about his
appearance, and he is learning some gentle skills. I think its good for a boy
to learn to put time and effort into his grooming."

"To each his own. But I think boys should be boys, and girls should be
girls."

"Jane, weren't you and I the tomboys of the block when we were growing up? We
turned out fine. Maybe a boy is best when there's a bit of girl mixed in."

They chatted a while longer, about flower gardens and the price of meat, but
it seemed a little less friendly than their usual chats. I sneaked into my
room as quietly as possible when I heard Mrs. Welmont get up to leave.

It was harder to get to sleep that night, than I thought it would be. There
was no real discomfort from the rollers, though the bobbi pins poked me a
little. The hairnet actually felt cozy against my head. I kept thinking about
what I had heard my mother say. Was she trying to mix "a bit of girl" into
me? Sure, I found setting my hair exciting, in fact the excitement was part
of why I was having trouble getting to sleep. I wanted to keep doing my hair,
but I wasn't sure I wanted to be known as a ...I never heard a name for a
"backwards tomboy" except "sissy," and I sure didn't want to be THAT.

I finally fell asleep, with my hand "down there," and pressing my head into
the pillow, so I could feel the rollers better.

Mom got me up earlier than usual.

"Put on a shower cap and take a shower. Time to get ready for school."

I showered and dressed. I put on a tee shirt without disturbing a single
hair.

"I wish you would wear something nicer than those tee shirts. Though I have
to admit, you have learned to put them on without disturbing your set.

Eat your breakfast, and then do your hair."

I ate breakfast quickly.

I got out my rat tail comb, my new can of hairspray, and my old hairbrush.
Mom had the Hairdo magazine out, opened to the page with the "Curly, not
frilly" style. I stood in front of the hall mirror and took out my rollers
and bobbi pins. Mom gave me a bowl for the rollers, clips and pins.

"We'll have to get you a roller bag or a basket to keep this stuff in."

My curls were very stiff. I must have put a lot of gel onto each one by
gelling them one at a time. The sides, set with the lotion, were not as
stiff. I didn't do much with the curls. I just separated them a bit, so they
didn't look like they still had rollers in them. I pulled the comb through
the sides. They looked smooth and flat against my head.

"Mom, shall I spray it now?"

"What do you think?"

I looked at my hair in the mirror, and at the hairstyle in the picture in the
magazine. Mine didn't look as nice, but I couldn't pick out the difference.

"Robbie, can you see that your hair is a bit too flat on the sides?"

Sure enough, that was it. My hair was right against the sides of my head. The
girl in the picture had her hair a bit "fluffier" on the sides. It was still
smooth, but it wasn't flat.

"I'll show you how to tease it a little. That will make a big difference."

"Mom, I've been teased about my hair enough"

"We're going to tease your hair, not tease YOU about your hair."

Mom was laughing as she spoke.

Mom showed me how to give my hair a quick shot of spray and how to use the
comb in little movements to build what she called "fullness" in my hair. Then
she smoothed my hair back gently with the brush and her hand and sprayed that
side more heavily. When she had finished the left side, she had me try the
same thing on the right side.

I really couldn't do it as well as Mom had. Mom finished it for me.

"Very good for a first try at teasing. You'll get better with practice."

She spoke as she worked.

"There, now both sides look the same."

I sprayed my hair, taking care to do all parts of my head well. I was really
getting to like the sweet smell of the spray.

Just as I finished spraying, I heard the school bus outside.

I ran out to the school bus and got on. Betty Thomas was sitting in her usual
place. I sat down next to her.

"Where were you yesterday afternoon? I thought you were coming to my house
after school."

"Oh wow, I forgot to call you. I apologize. My mother took me shopping for a
surprise right after school. She was in such a hurry that I forgot to call
you."

"What was the surprise?"

"She bought me a bunch of stuff to set my hair with. I have rollers, nets,
and clips, even a dryer.

"Did you try out your new things? I see you have a new style today. I like
the sides. They're teased out a little, aren't they? Where did you get the
idea?"

I had been trying to whisper. I knew Betty liked to talk about hair, I found
it exciting too. But boys weren't supposed to talk about hairstyling. Betty
was talking in a normal voice. I was worried that some boy from my class
might hear what we were talking about.

"We got the idea from a magazine called 'Hairdo.' Mom bought a copy when we
were shopping."

"We get that magazine almost every month. Some of the summer styles look so
pretty, but my mother won't let me cut my hair to try them."

I figured it was time to change the subject before some one heard us.

"Betty, thank you for the invitation, I'm really looking forward to your
party. What kind of party is it going to be?"

"Well, its going to be in my backyard. Some of my friends are bring things to
play with, and my mother s going to buy strawberry ice cream and she is going
to make pink lemonade."

"I guess I can wear play clothes then?"

"Of course, I think everyone will be wearing stuff they can play outside in.
But one thing...please do your hair with those adorable little gel curls on
your forehead. They look so nice on you."

I liked the gel curls too. They were so shiny and they felt so stiff. I was
always tempted to touch them, but I knew that would spoil the shine and
shape. After what happened at the museum, though, I wasn't about to wear gel
curls to school.

I wore the "Curly, not frilly" hairdo for the next two days. I liked it. I
wore the Slumber Cap to bed each night. In the morning, my hair looked pretty
good. I added a little spray each morning. I was really getting to like the
smell of hairspray.

On Tuesday afternoon, Mom took me shopping for clothes to wear to Betty's
party. I told her that I could just wear regular play clothes, but she said I
had to get a "nice summery outfit."

We went to a department store. We picked out some blue shorts from the boys
department and Mom had me take them into the dressing room. I tried them on.
They felt fine. Mom said they didn't fit right.

She had me wait in the dressing room while she took them away and brought
another pair. She brought a pair that were a pale blue-green. They had their
own belt, made of the same material as the shorts. I tried them on. They fit
very well too. Mom said they were fine. She said they fitted so well, that I
should get two pair in the same style. I waited while she brought another
pair. These were white.

Mom had me stay in the dressing room while she brought me some shirts to try.
Some were in colors I liked, but those were all too big. I got three new
shirts, one was the same color as the blue-green shorts, one was pale yellow
and one was bright pink. I didn't want to get the pink one at all, but Mom
started to get angry, so I let her get it for me.

She made me stay in the dressing room while she brought me some socks. There
were 3 pairs in a package, one blue-green, one yellow and one white.

Before we left the store, Mom also bought me a pair of sandals.

When we got home, Mom made me try everything on again. She said all the
colors looked "light and airy" and "perfect for summer."

It wasn't until I had worn the shorts for about an hour, that I discovered
that they had no zipper in front. They had a line of stitching, almost like a
flap, but it was fake. I had to pull the shorts down to pee. I was happy that
I wasn't going to wear the shorts during the school year. I didn't want have
stand in front of a urinal in the boys bathroom and pull my pants down!

By Wednesday afternoon, my head was getting sticky and itchy again. Mom said
that I could expect that to happen if I was going to use a lot of spray,
especially in the summer. Mom asked me if I wanted to get my usual short,
summer haircut.

I was puzzled. I was sure Mom wanted me to let my hair grow longer, and to
keep setting it. Why was she asking me about a short haircut?

"Mom, I thought about getting my usual short summer haircut, but I thought
you wanted to me to keep setting my hair"

"I'll admit, I like you in curls, but remember how this started. My
requirement was that you keep your hair neat and well groomed at all times.
The waves and curls started out as a punishment, but I think you like the way
you look with a set."

Actually, I did like the way I looked with curls, but the process of getting
the curls was turning out to be the most exciting. I even got excited just
thinking about wearing rollers. Then there was Betty. I never had a friend
who was a girl before. Heck, I didn't have many friends of any kind. Betty
seemed to enjoy seeing my hairdos, almost as much as I enjoyed getting them
done.

Mom continued.

"I'll take you to the barber right after school on Friday, if you like. If
you decide to skip the haircut, remember Mr. Antonneli is going to close his
shop and visit his family in Italy this summer. There will be no haircut for
you there, at least until September. And even though it is school vacation,
you will have to keep your hair well groomed every day. I will insist on
that."

"Mom, can I choose on Friday?"

"Sure you can. Friday, right after school."

"I guess I should shampoo my hair now and get ready to set it."

"Well, you did agree to wear curls for the last week of school."

I showered and shampooed my hair. I was about to put a dollop of conditioner
on my dripping head, when I noticed a paragraph on the bottle that I hadn't
read before.

"Give Your Hair a Beauty Treatment,

Deep Condition Once A Week.

Towel dry hair, then apply conditioner.

Comb conditioner through to ends. Leave on for 10 minutes.

Rinse with cool water."

I figured I would try it. I shut off the shower and used a towel to get most
of the water out of my hair. I put the conditioner on my hair and worked it
in. It felt creamier than usual. I didn't think my hair was long enough to
"Comb conditioner through to ends." I sat down to read a magazine and wait
about 10 minutes. The sweet smell of the conditioner was unusually strong. I
quickly became too excited to read. I was giving my hair a beauty treatment!
I didn't even notice as I started to touch myself.

Suddenly, the door of the bathroom opened and Mom walked in. I dashed behind
the shower curtain.

"Robbie, I'm sorry. I thought you were finished. I heard you shut off the
water almost 10 minutes ago. What are you doing in here?"

"I'm a...I'm deep conditioning my hair. The bottle says to do it once a week.
I have to wait 10 minutes before I rinse it off."

I handed her the bottle. She read it. Then, with a little laugh in her voice
she said.

"Well, enjoy your beauty treatment, sweetheart."

I could feel my ears turning red. I mumbled.

"I'll rinse it out now"

"No, Robbie. Don't rush. I wasn't laughing at you. I'm very pleased that you
think its worth an extra 10 minutes to get your hair a bit nicer."

Mom left. I waited another minute or two and then rinsed out the conditioner.
Actually, my hair felt almost the same as the other times I had used
conditioner, but somehow the idea that it was a 'beauty treatment' was still
exciting.

I went into my room and got dressed. I went to my drawer for my hair setting
stuff and found that the rollers were now in a pale blue cloth bag with a
drawstring at the top. There was also a smaller bag, the same color and
fabric, but with a zipper. It now held my comb, hairnets, bobbi pins, and end
papers. I took the two bags and my setting gel and went down to the kitchen.

"Didn't you forget something?"

"What Mom?"

"Well, what style are you going to wear? Would you like to pick one from
'Hairdo'?"

"I was going to do the same style again. I wanted to see if I could do the
teasing all myself."

"Do you like the sides teased? If you do, we can make them come out even
better."

"OK, lets try it."

This time I was able to roll my hair much more quickly. When I had the eight
rollers in the top, I asked Mom for the lotion to do the sides.

"If you really want to tease the sides out, you should set them on rollers.
You'll get much more volume that way."

"Is the hair there long enough to roll?"

"I think it's just about long enough."

Mom got out my smallest rollers, and with the help of a lot of gel she was
able to put 4 rollers on each side of my head. Each roller was held with two
clips. I had a dozen rollers on my head. The most rollers I had worn before
had been 9 or 10. When I looked in the mirror, I got so excited I could
hardly breathe.

"Are you going to look at yourself all evening?"

"Oh...er no, I was just going upstairs to set up my dryer."

"Good, you can bring this up with you."

Mom handed me a flat package wrapped in brown paper.

"What's this?"

"It's a hand mirror. It's used to check the back of your head, to make sure
the set is right, and later to check the finished hairdo. Now that you can,
pretty much, roll your hair yourself, you don't need to drag all the stuff
downstairs each time. You can just sit at your desk and roll up your hair
whenever you want."

My desk was empty anyway. I had already dumped all the papers from the school
year. Mom came up to my room and we moved my hair setting supplies to my
desk. Mom helped me set up the hair stuff on my desk. We put the dryer on the
desk and plugged it in. We put the can of hairspray, the jar of gel, and that
bottle of Hair Trainer on the desk. My rat-tail comb and my old hairbrush
went on the desk too. The only thing left from the school year, was the soup
can full of pencils and pens.

As we worked, moving stuff around, I kept seeing myself in the mirror, my
hair rolled up and covered with a blue hairnet.

When we finished setting up my desk, I sat down, put on the dryer bonnet and
turned the thing on.

"See you in half an hour sweetheart."

Mom left me to enjoy the warm air. She also left me with the two hair styling
magazines. I had looked all through the Hairdo magazine already, so I started
thumbing through the copy of Hairstyle. This magazine was filled with longer
styles, and they were done with so many curls! It also had a section called
"Dressy Updos For That Special Day...or Night!"

The hairstyles in this section were all very elaborate. The women had their
hair pulled back and up, away from their faces. The hair was arranged in a
variety of ways. Most had some kind of curls, usually big piles of curls.
Some of the styles were smooth and folded over into that French twist style,
like Betty's mother had. Three of the styles had hair that looked like it had
been woven like a basket. I wondered how long someone had to sit still while
THAT was being done to her hair.

Actually, all of the styles in this section were very beautiful, but they all
looked like they required long hair, and lots of time and skill. I could
imagine what it would feel like; the rolling, the long wait under the dryer,
the teasing, spraying, pinning, and more spraying.

Sitting there as I was, with the weight of the rollers and dryer bonnet
keeping me very aware of my hair, I could actually imagine myself with an
elaborate hairstyle, one that reached high above my head.

As I sat there, I began to get the now familiar feeling of the rollers
getting a little tighter as my hair dried.

I was sitting at my desk with the dryer humming away, my mind focused on the
beautiful updos in the magazine. I'm not sure why I looked up just then, but
as did, I could see, in the new mirror, my mother standing behind me.

"Oh those styles are stunning, aren't they? Would you like to wear your hair
like that someday?"

"Mom, I'm a boy! Just setting my hair in curls is bad enough."

"Its not BAD, Robbie. It's good. It's gentle and sweet and beautiful. If you
would like to wear a dressy updo someday, don't be ashamed to say it."

"Those styles look very difficult to do. Besides look how long my hair would
have to be."

"Kid's hair grows fast. You could grow it long enough to start putting it in
simple updos in about a year."

"Mom, remember, I haven't even decided if I want to skip my short summer
haircut yet.

Mom didn't say another word. She just left the room with a tiny smile on her
face.

I looked at the clock. I had been under the dryer for over 40 minutes. I
turned it off and took off the bonnet. I took off the hairnet and unrolled
one of the rollers that I had put in, one on the top of my head. My hair felt
warm, stiff and bone dry. I decided to wait about five minutes for my hair to
cool. Then I took out the rest of the rollers.

My hair was all stiff, springy curls. I loosened them up a bit on top, but
not too much. I really liked how I looked in shiny curls. I worked at the
sides with my comb and the hairspray.

Mom was right. It was easier to tease the sides out after they had been set
on rollers. I kept working on my hair with the comb and the hairspray until I
had fluffed out, but smooth finished, sides. I had a very curly top.

I pulled one little curl down onto the left side of my forehead and sprayed
it to keep it there. I got the idea from the magazine.

When I was finished. I used the new hand mirror to check the back of my head.
One curl was sticking out too far. I pushed it into place. I added one more
"coat" of hairspray and went down to show Mom.

"Wow. You did it all yourself. Let me look at you. It looks fantastic!"

"I tried to get the sides like you had them. Did they come out too puffy?"

"No, they look just fine. I love that little curl on your forehead too. Aunt
May and I sometimes would do something like that, when we were teenagers. One
day I would make a little curl on the right side, and she would put hers on
the left. Then we would switch the next day. Nobody could tell May from June,
unless we told them. It's still early. I have some shopping to do. Do you
want to come along. We can stop for ice cream on the way home."

Mom and I ate a light dinner and left to go shopping. She hadn't said where
we were going.

As it turned out, we stopped at about 5 stores. At one store, I was waiting
in the toy department when Mom came over to me carrying a pair of pale blue
shorts and a kind of tee shirt.

"Would you try these on? I think they would be perfect for you."

"Mom, you already bought me shorts"

"Not in this color."

I went into the dressing room and put on the shorts and the shirt. The shirt
was not really a tee shirt. The sleeves were shorter, almost just shoulder
straps. The neck was bigger. It looked almost like a big circle. The shirt
had narrow stripes that ran from top to bottom, blue that matched the shorts,
and white. There was a little decoration of a ship's anchor sewed on where
some shirts might have a pocket. It was so easy to get this shirt on without
messing up my hair.

"You look adorable."

That word again.

"What do you think?"

"Well this shirt sure will be cool in the summer. It has almost no sleeves."

"This style of top is called a shell. Do you want it?"

"Why not?"

"Ok. I'll get this outfit for you. Do you have beach shoes?"

"No, one of mine broke last year."

"Well, they're on sale here today."

I got a new pair of "flip-flops," also light blue. For some reason, Mom
wanted me to wear all my new stuff out of the store. After we paid, I went
into the dressing room again and changed. We put my jeans, shirt, sneakers
and socks into a bag and left.

"I promised you that we'd stop for ice cream."

We stopped at a place called "Cold and Delicious" We gave our orders at the
counter and went to the table to wait for the waitress to bring our sundaes.

We were talking about places we wanted to go during the summer, when the
waitress came with the sundaes.

"Here is the pineapple sundae you ordered ma'am, and here is your banana
split, miss. I like bring treats to sweet little girls."

"Hey, I'm not a girl. I'm a boy!"

"Sure sweetheart, and I'm Batman."

Then she turned to my mother.

"Going through a stage, huh?"

The waitress put the sundaes on the table and left. Mom looked very angry.

"I thought we went through this before. She said something nice to you, and
you responded like an uncouth little urchin."

"But she called me a girl.'

"So what? It was meant as a compliment. Take it as such. Now I want you to
apologize to that nice waitress and not humiliate me further."

"What shall I say?"

"Thank her for the compliment, and apologize for snapping at her."

I went over to where the waitress was standing and apologized.

"Hey, that's Ok sweetheart. We all play make-believe sometimes. My mom says
that for a whole month, I wanted to be a cat. She said I made everyone call
me 'Tabby.' Don't worry, you'll be back to being a girl soon enough."

That sure gave me something to think about. In fact, I couldn't get it out of
my mind. Not only did that waitress think I was a girl, she thought that when
I said I was a boy, I was playing make-believe.

I was very quiet on the drive home from the ice cream store. I really wanted
to talk to Mom about that waitress, but I was afraid of what she might say.
As it turned out, Mom brought it up first.

"How many times are you planning to humiliate me? If someone compliments you,
you are to accept it and thank that person. You are not to snap at them,
correct them, or try to make them look stupid. If this happens, in the
slightest way, ever again, you will be punished in an appropriate and
unpleasant fashion. Do you understand?"

"But Mom..."

"No 'but Mom' about it. You will be polite and civilized or you will be
punished. That's it."

Mom was shouting now. She was as angry as she used to get before all this
hair and grooming stuff first started. I didn't want to go back to that.

"OK Mom, I'll be polite and civilized."

We were both pretty quiet for the rest of the ride home.

Mom made sure I wore my Sweet Dreams Slumber Cap to bed that night. She also
looked very closely at my hands.

"Robbie, how did you get that grease on your hands?"

I looked at my hands. There were a few little spots that hadn't come off

when I washed up.

"My bike chain was loose. I adjusted it, like Dad showed me."

"Well that won't do. Those lovely curls, and your new outfits just don't go
with dirty hands."

"I did my best to get the grease off."

"I have an idea. Wait here."

Mom left my room and returned a minute later with a jar and a pair of gloves.
She opened the jar and told me to take some of the cream from it and rub it
into my hands. I did. The cream felt cool and greasy. It smelled very sweet,
almost like perfume.

"Mom this stuff is greasy and sticky."

"Yes, it is. Leave it on overnight. I'm pretty sure it will loosen the grease
stains on your hands. Here, put these gloves on so your bedding won't get all
greasy from the cream."

I took the gloves. They were white cloth. I pulled them onto my hands. They
were a bit tight, but they fit. I had never worn gloves to bed before.

"Please try not to take them off until morning. Good night, dear"

Mom was smiling gently as she turned out my light and closed my door.

It took a while to get used to the gloves. They weren't actually
uncomfortable, like the first time I slept in rollers, but they did feel
strange. I knew the cream was greasy and sticky, but with the gloves on, I
really couldn't feel it. I soon fell asleep.

In the morning, when I washed my hands, the grease stains were gone. My hands
were different. They felt very smooth and they still smelled like perfume. I
was afraid someone might notice the strong sweet smell, so I washed them
three times. It was no use. The soap Mom had put in the bathroom smelled
almost as strong as the cream.

My hair didn't need much attention. The Slumber Cap had left it almost
perfect. I could see that the side I slept on was a little flatter than the
other side. I lifted the hair on that side a little with the tail of my comb
and sprayed that side, then my whole head.

I had a little extra time, so I spent a minute or two looking in my mirror
and getting my curls arranged just right, before the spray dried.

Mom checked my hands and was happy to see that the grease was gone. She
looked at my hair. "You're really getting good at this. You look like you
just stepped out of a salon."

"Mom, boys don't go to salons."

"I meant it as a compliment. Now, what do you say?"

I almost choked on the words.

"Thank you Mom."

It was time to leave for school.

Betty Thomas was in the bus, in her usual seat. I didn't even think about it.
I just sat down next to her.

"Good morning, Robbie. It looks like you have a fresh hairdo and you smell so
nice today. Did you use something new?"

Betty had her hair in a half ponytail. It was tied with a little bow that
matched her yellow blouse.

"You look nice too"

"Really Robbie, you smell so nice. What is it? I'm jealous. My mother says
I'm too young to use perfume."

"It's not perfume. It's probably the cream my mother made me use on my
hands."

I explained the whole thing about the grease stains and the gloves.

"My mother sometimes wears gloves to bed too. She says that hand cream works
better with gloves. She says it makes her hands softer."

I changed the subject.

"Only two more school days. Then that's it."

"I can't wait until vacation either. I want to spend more time playing
outside and with my friends."

"I just want to be out of school. I expect to spend a lot of time on my
bike."

Thursday dragged to an end. Friday was the last day of school. We were let
out early. I rode the bus home with Betty Thomas.

"I'm glad they let us out early. I have to get home and help Mother get
everything ready for my party. It'll be great. You'll be able to meet all my
other friends."

"I'll be there."

Betty leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Please don't forget those cute kiss curls"

Mom was waiting for me as I came through the door.

"Hi...How do you feel? You're on vacation!"

"I feel great Mom, no more school 'til September."

"I'm so proud of you. I know it was difficult sometimes, but you kept your
commitment about your curls until the very last day of school. Ready for that
summer haircut now?"

I was ready to jump at the opportunity. Then I remembered what Betty had just
said to me on the bus.

"Mom, can I wait a few days more to decide?"

"Why would you want to wait?"

"Well, I kind of promised to have a curly hairdo for Betty's party."

"Remember what I told you about Mr. Antonneli. His shop will be closed after
today, right until the first week in September. So I guess it is now, or no
summer haircut."

"Mom, I did agree to curl my hair for the party. Can I get it cut somewhere
else, say next week?"

"Mr. Antonneli is the only barber I trust to do a good job. You could get it
trimmed at the salon where I get my hair done, I suppose"

"Mom, I don't want to go to a salon"

Mom's smile turned to a frown

"Well, let it grow then. I won't ask you to get it cut again. You'll have to
ask me. But remember, my standard for neatness and grooming is just as strict
during the summer as during the school year."

"I know."

"Is here a specific hairdo you said you would wear to the party?"

"Well, Betty asked me to wear those little gel curls on my forehead again.

You know, like I had last Sunday when aunt May did them."

Mom seemed to brighten at the mention of the little curls I had worn to
church.

"Do you think you can do them yourself?"

"I was going to ask you to help me."

"I'll be happy to help you set your hair in those adorable little curls. Just
ask when you're ready, darling."

I spent the afternoon outside. I rode my bike to the hobby shop and bought a
flying model airplane kit. The shop owner, who everyone knew only as Gus,
seemed to be looking at me a little strangely, as he wrapped my package.

"You're Rob aren't you?"

"Sure am."

It was nice to be called Rob again, instead of Robbie.

"You look different...What is it?"

"I don't know. I'm the same kid."

I paid for my model and left the store in a hurry. I wasn't eager to have a
discussion that might end up being about my hairdo.

I started the model kit as soon as I got back home. Flying models were much
harder to build than plastic models and took a lot more concentration. Before
I knew it, it was dinner time.

"I know you've picked out your hairdo for the party, but have you decided on
what you are going to wear?"

"Betty said everyone will be bringing toys and wearing play clothes. I think
I'll wear cutoffs and a Tee shirt."

"Not to a party, made by a nice little girl like Betty, you won't."

"I guess you're right. I'll wear some of my new summer things."

"Not just anything, you have to learn how coordinate what you wear, so it
looks right as a whole outfit."

"Mom, I don't know anything about that. It sounds hard."

"No harder than learning to set your hair."

After dinner we went up to my room and looked through my new summer clothes.
I had 3 pairs of shorts to choose from. Mom said that the blue-green color
was called "aqua." I had shorts, a shirt and socks in that color. When Mom
asked me to try to pick an outfit where the pieces all looked good together,
I picked all aqua.

"All matching color is certainly OK, but you can choose something a bit more
interesting."

I ended up picking the aqua shirt, the white shorts and aqua socks. Mom made
me wear a pair of plain white canvas sneakers that I didn't even remember her
buying for me. But there they were in my closet. I tried everything on.

"You look fine. I think you'll be dressed very much like the other children
at Betty's party"

"Mom, there is something different about these clothes. The shirts look
almost like my regular Tee shirts, but the necks seem a bit wider and
rounder. And, none of the shorts have a zipper, they just go on with elastic
and a belt"

"These are summer things. They are made as light and cool as possible. Your
swim suit doesn't have a zipper either, does it?" The shirt's wider necks are
cooler, and they won't disturb your hairdo at all."

I was going to say that I had never seen a boy wearing white shorts, but I
knew how Mom would react to that.

"Robbie, are you going to do your hair tonight and sleep in rollers, or set
in the morning and sit under your dryer?"

"I think I'll set it in the morning. I want to get a good night's sleep
tonight."

I worked some more on the airplane model, then joined Mom for an hour of TV
before getting ready for bed. It seemed like the first time in weeks that I
wasn't wearing rollers, a hair net, or a Slumber Cap to bed.

Mom woke me in the morning.

"Good morning Robbie, time to get up. Betty expects you at 12:00 and it's
almost 9:00. It will be best if you get your hair done while it's still cool
in the morning. Shower and shampoo and put on the clothes we picked out. Roll
up your hair, but leave the bangs alone. I'll help you with them after
breakfast."

I headed for the bathroom. The shampoo and conditioning only took about five
minutes. I dried off and went into my room to get dressed. I put on the stuff
we had chosen. I cleared the model airplane stuff off my desk and got out my
rollers, gel, comb and clips.

I dipped my fingers into the gel and worked it through my hair. I combed all
my hair back, then I used the tail of the comb to separate my bangs. I combed
the bangs down onto my forehead. I noticed that they reached closer to my
eyebrows than they had the first time Mom had set my hair.

I worked carefully to section off hair for each roller and roll it up. I put
the clips in very close to my scalp, so the rollers would stay tight. The
first 4 rollers went in Ok. By the time I got to the fifth roller, my hair
was starting to dry, and wouldn't stick to the roller. I added some extra
gel. Then the hair rolled up very well.

I used a little less hair on each roller this time, and managed to get eight
of them in. I even rolled 2 on the sides. I don't know why, but I thought it
was important to fit as many rollers on my head as possible, and to try to
make them line up in neat rows.

When I finished, I put the hairnet over the rollers. It was my own dark blue
net. I looked at in the mirror. It just didn't look right. I realized it
would look better if the net were aqua, or even white. Finally, I decided to
leave the net off for now.

Mom called me for breakfast. I went downstairs.

"Nice set Robbie. Very even. May I touch it?"

"Sure Mom."

Mom touched a couple of my rollers.

"Nice and firm too. You are really getting very good at this, but I notice
your not wearing a net. The net helps keep the rollers in place while your
hair dries."

"Well, I had the net on, but it just didn't look right. I think I need a
different color, to go with these clothes"

Mom didn't say anything right away. She got a funny look in her eyes and put
her arms around me. When she spoke, she was sniffling a bit, almost like she
had a cold.

"Oh how my sweet child is learning! I'll get you some nets when I go
shopping. You've made me so happy and proud."
 
 

We ate breakfast. I had cereal with milk with a peach sliced into it. Mom had
the same, with a cup of coffee. When we finished eating, Mom asked about my
hair.

"Would you like me to help you with those gel curls now?"

"Sure. I'll get what we need."

I went back to my room and brought my comb, the gel, and the pink tape. Mom
combed my bangs forward and dipped her fingers in the gel. She had me stand
facing the mirror, so I could watch her work. She tried to keep her body to
the side so as not to block my view any more than necessary.

"It is important to completely cover each curl with gel. This style is really
not supposed to look anything like a natural curl. It is meant to look shiny,
stiff and precise. It's really kind of dressy for an occasion like this."

"Well, I sort of promised Betty that I would have gel curls today."

Mom did 3 of the curls. Each one was stuck to my forehead with the cool,
sticky gel.

"You try one or two, Robbie."

I dipped my fingers and heavily coated a lock of hair. It was easy to form
the little curl that looked almost like the number 6. I actually did four of
them. That's all the hair there was.

"I think I'm finished."

"Looks good to me"

Mom tore off a long piece of tape and carefully put it across the curls on my
forehead. She was careful not to disturb a hair.

"Don't touch the tape until the curls are completely dry and cool"

The cool feel of the gel on my forehead and the slightly tight feeling of the
tape were very exciting.

"Robbie, put the net on carefully before you get under the dryer, don't worry
about the color for now."

Mom winked when she said that.

I went back to my room and set up the dryer. I was looking around for
something to read while it ran, when I spotted the jar of hand cream. Mom had
left it in my room. I had an urge to open the jar and sniff the sweet smell
of the cream. I brought the jar with me to my desk and set it down. I put the
dryer bonnet on my head and started the dryer. I picked up the jar and read
the label "Petal Soft Smoothing Cream Designed to give your hands the
softness of flower petals, the smoothness of satin."

This was obviously made for women. It had worked to get the grease off my
hands, even out of the little ridges of my fingerprints. Almost nothing did
that very well. I unscrewed the lid and sniffed the jar. I took a little out
and rubbed it into my hands. I used just a tiny bit this time, there weren't
any grease spots on my hands now to remove, and I really didn't like the
sticky feel that much. All I really wanted was to get that sweet smell onto
my hands again. The jar label said to rub the cream in until it disappeared.
That's what I did.

I spent the rest of the time under the dryer reading Mechanix Illustrated.

There was a great article about a guy who built huge flying model airplanes.
He controlled them by radio, and used chain saw engines to power them. One of
them weighed 25 pounds. I eagerly turned the pages with fragrant fingers,
while the dryer hummed, and my curls became firm and dry. I could feel the
heat building up under the bonnet.

I could feel myself starting to perspire from the dryer and the late June
morning. I turned the dryer from "hot" down to "warm."

After 45 minutes, I decided I was probably finished. I reached under the
bonnet and felt the rollers. They were quite warm and felt dry. I shut off
the dryer and took off the bonnet. I waited until everything cooled down a
bit before taking off the net. I took out all the rollers and pins, but left
the tape in place across the curls on my forehead. Each curl had snapped back
into the roller shape after I unwound it. I thought about leaving my hair
that way.

Actually, I loosened the curls up a bit, and tried to make them to look the
way Betty's mother had done them for me. I couldn't get them as neat as she
had, but I was happy with them. I took off the pink tape. I had a row of
little curls stuck to my forehead. They didn't move when I shook my head,
wrinkled my brow, jumped up and down. The rest of my hair bounced a bit, and
a few curls got out of place. I put them back where I wanted them. I sprayed
my hair all over, even the gel curls that were already stiff. I went
downstairs. I knew Mom was waiting to drive me to Betty's party.

"Robbie, you look very nice. Ready to go?"

"Sure am."

"Are you going to bring any toys?"

"Oh wow, I almost forgot. Betty said all the kids are bringing toys. I'll
bring my GI Joes"

"I really don't think such violent things are nice to bring to this party"

"Why not. All my friends like to play GI Joe"

"But these will be Betty's friends. Please take something else instead. How
about that craft set I got for you, you barely even opened it."

Mom had gotten me a bead craft set last Christmas. I had opened it, and used
it once. I didn't see much use to it.

"Ok, I'll get it"

I went to my room and dug under my bed. There it was. Still brand new, but
very dusty. I wiped it off with a sock I found under there too. The box
showed a picture of two girls and a boy making stuff with beads. One of the
girls had a beaded barrette in her hair, the other one had a bead necklace
on. The boy wasn't wearing any beads, but he seemed to be making something
like a belt. I took the box downstairs with me.

The ride to Betty Thomas's house took only five minutes. I could have taken
my bike, but Mom wanted to drive me there.

Betty met me at the door.

"Oh I'm glad you're here. You look so nice with those curls. Come on in, two
of my friends are here already."
 
 

Betty took my hand and led me into the house.

"Your hand feels so soft. Do you use hand cream?"

"Er...Sometimes... I guess."

"Please don't be shy. You are so different from other boys, I like the way
you are"

I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

Betty stopped in front a closed door.

"You're blushing, that's so sweet. Well, I might as well finish the job."

With that, she put her arms around me and kissed me on the forehead, again,
just like outside the church!

"I just can't help it. Those curls are too adorable."

I must have looked like a stoplight by now. Betty opened the door and we went
down to the playroom.

"Hi, , Susan, this is my friend Robbie"

Caroline and Susan were about Betty's age and size. Caroline had long black
braided hair. She was wearing pink shorts and a white blouse. She had sandals
on, and her toenails were painted pink. They matched her shorts. There was a
small pink bow near the end of her braid too.

Susan had short hair for a girl. It was brown, and it wasn't that much longer
than mine, just long enough to hide her ears. Her hair was very straight
compared to my curls, but it did turn under a bit at the ends. I knew from
the Hairdo magazine that her hairstyle was called a "bob." She was dressed
almost the way I was, white shorts and canvas sneakers, but she had on a
light orange shirt and socks.

Caroline and Susan were sitting on the floor. There was paper and crayons
around, and some half-finished pictures.

"We were drawing pictures. Would you like to join us?"

"Sure, Susan"

I joined them on the floor. I began a drawing of my favorite subject,
airplanes. Soon, I was pretty involved in my picture. I had three fighters in
a steep climb, with anti-aircraft shells exploding around them. I didn't
realize that Caroline was looking over my shoulder.

"Wow, that's a great picture. So much action. Did you learn to draw airplanes
from your brother or somebody? I never saw a girl draw pictures like that
before."

"But I'm a..."

I caught myself in time. Mom would be furious if I did that again, after all,
Caroline was complementing my art!

"Thank you. I always liked to draw action pictures. I guess I just got good
at it, because I do it so much."

Betty got up and walked over to us. She looked at my picture.

"Caroline, come look at my picture."

Betty took Caroline to where her picture was on the floor. Betty picked up
the picture and continued to the corner of the room.

"Here Caroline, the light is better."

Betty was whispering something to Caroline. I couldn't hear a word of what
she was saying. Caroline answered Betty, speaking just a little louder. All I
could make out was...

"No...believe...you sure?"

I clearly heard Betty's answer.

"He really is. Isn't that great?"

I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what they were talking
about.

"Betty, come up here, you have more guests arriving."

Betty excused herself and ran up the stairs from the playroom. She returned
in a minute with two more girls.

"Susan, Robbie, Caroline, this is Sara and Ashley."

Betty gently touched each of us as she said our names.

"Now we are all here. Mother says lunch will be ready in about 20 minutes. We
can keep drawing until then, or play in the yard."

"Oh Betty, your garden is so pretty. Let's go outside"

"Sara is right, that would be nice."

The six of us went out the downstairs door, right into the backyard, with
Sara in the lead. Betty's two kittens tagged along.

Sara had light brown hair. It was very straight and really long. She didn't
have bangs. She had her hair parted in the middle and it fell down along the
sides of her face and over her shoulders.

As soon as we got outside, Sara took the pink, ruffled hair tie that she had
on her wrist like a bracelet, and used it to put her hair into a ponytail.
The pink tie on her hair exactly matched the pink stripes of her top and the
pink edges of her white socks.

Ashley was the only one not wearing shorts. She was wearing long pants that
were a light green, like mint ice cream. They had pictures of flowers and
butterflies all over them. Her shirt was the same color, but didn't have any
pictures. Ashley's hair was also light brown, and about down to her
shoulders. She had a lot of curls. The curls looked very fresh and bouncy. I
was quite sure she had rollers in her hair that morning, just like I had in
mine.

We played "statues" for a while, and then "hide-and-seek." The games were
much quieter than the way my friends play. I didn't complain. After all, I
was the only boy at the party, so I really didn't have a choice.

Betty's mother was at the window.

"Kids, lunch in 10 minutes, finish the game and get ready to come in a and
wash your hands."

Betty suggested we each put a flower in our hair before we went inside. I
thought I would look silly with a flower in my hair, but I didn't say
anything. Susan didn't seem to like the idea either.

"I'll go along, but only if we vote on it. If we vote for it, everyone wears
one." She suggested.

We voted. Susan and I were the only "No" votes.

"Well OK, I just didn't want to pick those pretty flowers. They look so nice
there."

"We don't have to pick the ones in the flower bed, Susan. We can use these,
here by the edge of the lawn. They get cut down when we mow the lawn anyway."

We picked yellow dandelions, blue thistles and pale buttercups. We found some
tiny flowers that looked like daisies, but they were only the size of a
nickel.

Betty dug in her pocket and came up with some bobby pins. Caroline had 2 or 3
in her pocket too. We helped each other pin the flowers into our hair. I
helped Sara arrange some white flowers around the tie holding her ponytail.

Betty did mine for me. When we went in for lunch, I had four tiny daisies
pinned into my stiff curls, somewhere above my right ear.

Over lunch we talked about the past school year, about next year, about the
summer, and finally about how we were going to spend the afternoon. Betty had
a croquet set. Ashley had brought a Frisbee and three Barbie dolls. When I
mentioned my Bead Craft set, everyone asked questions about it.

"Can we make pins and stuff?"

"Does it have those delicate little seed beads in it?"

We decided to check it out after we played some croquet. The loud clap of
thunder changed our plans. After lunch and delicious strawberry ice cream, we
returned to the playroom and got out the bead set.

Everyone was eager to make something. Everyone but me, that was. I really
couldn't see anything in the booklet with the set that I would want to wear.
There were designs for pins, necklaces, bracelets, even hair clips. I guess a
boy could wear a pin or something, but I wasn't sure I wanted one.

I figured I had to make something, so I started on a pin that looked like a
Star Trek officer's communicator badge. Betty suggested we all work the
letters WGC into the things we were making.

"Why Betty?"

"Ashley, it stands for We're Good Companions, so we can remember all the fun
we had today."

We all agreed to do it.

We worked on our bead projects for about an hour. Every so often, two or
three of the girls would have a whispering conference about something. I was
never included. Sometimes they would giggle as they whispered. I was starting
to feel left out.

Betty's mom came down to the playroom and helped us hot glue the beadwork to
the pin backs. We wouldn't have to wait hours for glue to dry.

When everything was finished, Betty and Susan collected all the bead projects
from everyone. They said they had a special idea in mind and we would get
them back later. Then Betty asked me to leave the room and count slowly to a
hundred, before coming back.

"And close your eyes as soon as you get into the room"

I didn't want to go. Betty came up to me, stood close to me and touched one
of my gel curls very gently. She whispered in my ear.

"Please play along with us...for me."

When I returned to the room, the lights were out. I didn't see anybody, but I
could hear faint giggling from behind the furniture.

I stood in the middle of the room and closed my eyes. I heard someone
whisper.

"Now"

Then they all shouted at once.

"Surprise. You're elected to membership. Open your eyes!"

I looked around. Five girls were standing around me wearing their bead
jewelry. Each one had the letters WGC on it. Caroline handed me my pin.

"Put it on. You're a member. We voted you in."

"Into what? I don't understand."

Sara spoke.

"We fooled you, but only a little. The letters WGC, they really stand for
Wells Girls Club. You're an honorary girl, and a full member."

I stood there dumbfounded. Betty gently took the pin from my hand and
attached it to my shirt..
 

"Honorary girl? What's that?"
"Well we all know you're really a boy, but you dress just like we
do, and you do your hair in such pretty styles, that we want you
to be one of us.  Welcome to our girl's club."
I could feel myself getting very excited.  If a boy had said,
that I looked like a girl, I would probably try to punch him in
the jaw. Even when Jen said it, I wanted to clobber her.  But
these girls weren't saying it to tease me.  They thought I was
pretty enough to be a girl, and they wanted me to be their
friend.  I felt like shouting for joy, crying and hugging each of
them, all at the same time.
Outside, the rain had stopped.  We spent the rest of the
afternoon in the back yard.  We played with Betty's kittens,
played catch with a beach ball, and the girls tried to teach me
how to jump rope.  It was easy to see that I had never done it
before.  We planned what we would do for the rest of the summer.
The girls had so many ideas for great things to do.  We planned
on afternoons at the movies and days at the beach.  Ashley and
Caroline wanted to have a sleep-over for the whole club.
We even planned for a bike ride to the Colonial Life Museum, and
an "old fashioned" picnic there.
Betty said she could probably get her mother to help us have a
"beauty salon afternoon" if we wanted to.  The four girls cheered
out loud for that idea.  I didn't cheer out loud, but I could
feel the excitement inside, as I remembered Mrs. Thomas
shampooing and setting my hair.
Most of the ideas sounded much better to me than the endless
round of baseball, basketball, and manhunt that my male friends
used to fill their summer.  If I could find time for a few long
bike rides and for my airplane models, along with all the "girl"
activities, this would be the best school vacation of my life.
At about four o'clock, parents started to arrive to pick up the
girls.  By 4:30, I was the only one left.  I didn't think about
it then, but I think Betty had it planned that way.  She told me
the party was from 12 to 5, and that's what I had told Mom.
"Robbie, I hope your not angry with me."
"Why should I be angry?"
"You know, we kind of sprung that 'honorary girl' thing on you."
"I didn't know what to say about it at first, but I think we have
some great plans for the summer."
"I hope you mean that, because I'm looking forward to going
places and doing all those things with you"
Betty had a little half smile on her face. She seemed to be
blushing. I remembered what Jen had said about Betty having a
crush on me.  I think I was blushing now, too.
Betty was sitting on the little bench near the daisies.  She
motioned for me to sit down next to her.  I did.  We talked for a
while and watched her kittens chase each other around the yard.
I realized we were holding hands.
"Robbie, do you mind if I touch your hair?"
"Only if I can touch yours"
Betty began to gently finger my curls with her free hand.  I did
the same to her.  Her shiny red hair felt smooth and bouncy.  I
knew my curls were stiff and crisp.
"Robbie, please let your hair grow out this summer.  Curls look
wonderful on you.  Longer curls will look even better."
"Well, the barber who usually cuts my hair is away this summer,
and Mom doesn't trust anyone else, so I guess that settles it"
I deliberately left out the part about the salon trim.  Besides,
I really did have the shortest hair of anyone in "our" new club.
 

Betty and I sat there for a while talking about the summer and
what we were planning to do.  All the while, we held hands, her
left in my right.  Now and then she would find a reason to touch
me with her free hand.  She flicked a bug off my shirt, adjusted
one or two of my curls, stuff like that.
I guess I spent most of the time just looking at Betty.  I don't
know what to call the hairstyle she was wearing, but I thought it
was just so pretty.  Most of her hair was just brushed back and
fell down her back in a mass of loose, shiny curls, but she had
two braids that started near her temples. She had worked the
stems of some little purple wildflowers into the braids. These
braids were brought together at the crown of her head and held
close together with a little gold colored barrette.  Below the
barrette, the hair from the braids was loose and joined the rest
of her hair.
The braids and flowers along the sides of her head looked like a
crown.
I heard a car in the driveway.  I turned and saw my mom pulling
up.  She got out of the car.
"Hi kids.  Robbie, I'm going inside to talk to Mrs. Thomas for a
few minutes.  Start getting ready to leave."
"If I know Mother, they will be talking for a while. I'll help
you pack up your bead set."
We went back to the playroom.  After the bead set was packed, we
just sat on the floor and talked.  Suddenly Betty took my hand
and stood up, pulling me with her.  She wrapped her arms around
me in a hug and put her cheek next to mine.  I could feel her
braid pressed against my curls.  Hairdo to hairdo. Why was it so
exciting?
"Robbie, you are so different from any other boy I've ever met.
It's like you have the best parts of boy, and the best parts of
girl, all mixed together."
I didn't say anything.
"Kids, say 'So long' I've got to get Robbie home for dinner."
Mom was calling from upstairs.
Betty hugged me a little tighter and kissed me, a little peck on
the lips.
"Robbie, please come back soon."
I was pretty quiet on the ride home.  I guess I had a lot to
think about.  First, what was I, a boy or a girl?  Or was I a boy
turning into a girl?  Betty was acting like she wanted me to be
her boyfriend, but I didn't know if I wanted a girlfriend.  It
seemed like Betty wanted me to be her boyfriend, just because I
was almost like her girl friends.
"Robbie, who was at the party?"
"Betty, of course, and Caroline, Susan, Sara and Ashley.
I didn't think I could remember all the names."
"I guess it was an all-girl party.  Er..I mean except for you. I
see you picked some flowers."
"How did you..?"
I realized and reached for the flowers pinned into my hair.
"Oh Robbie, please don't take them out.  They look perfect
resting in your curls.  I'm sure they don't bother you, you
forgot all about them."
I wore the flowers until bedtime.  As I sat at my desk and
removed them, I thought about church in the morning.  I looked at
my head full of curls. I was proud that now, at the end of the
day, almost every curl was as perfect as they were this morning.
From the stiff feel of the spray, I knew they could go another
day and still look fine.
I thought about meeting cousin Jen at church again.  I
considered just washing out the curls, and combing my hair
boy-style in the morning.  That would keep Jen quiet.  But what
if Betty is there?  I don't want her to count me as one of the
boys with Howdy Doody hair.
I saw the dryer on my desk, and the rollers and pins where I had
left them this morning.  I remembered how exciting it was each
time to sit under the dryer and feel the rollers getting dry and
tight, while imagining myself with more and more elaborate
hairdos.  I set my alarm for 6:30, so I would have enough time
for a complete shampoo and set in the morning.  I put on my
Slumber Cap, just in case I decided to keep the style I had for
another day, got under the covers and fell asleep looking through
the Hairdo magazine, looking for a nice style to try in the
morning.

 I woke up to the sound of the alarm on my clock radio.  I
had set it to buzz.  I sometimes slept right through, if I set it
to music.  I knew I had been dreaming, but couldn't remember
exactly what I had dreamt.
After going to the bathroom, I got out my toothbrush and began to
brush.  The Slumber Cap was still on my head.  Somehow, the sight
of it bothered me a little.  There was no doubt that I liked how
I looked with curled and styled hair.  I even enjoyed the
setting, drying and spraying.  In fact, just thinking about it
gave me a special warm and excited feeling.
I enjoyed being at the party yesterday.  Those girls were fun to
be with, more fun than any other friends I had, but did I really
want to be one of them?
I pulled off the cap and looked at myself in the mirror.  The gel
curls were still pretty fresh looking, but something inside said
"NO."  I knew I had to keep my hair neat, and both Mom and Betty
wanted to see me in curls, but I just didn't want to look this
much like a girl today.  I jumped into the shower and shampooed
out all the spray and gel.   I wasn't sure what I was going to do
with my hair today, but one thing was sure.  I wasn't going to
wear kiss curls to church today.
By the time I had finished with my shower, I felt more relaxed.
I looked at my wet hair in the mirror and thought about it.
Maybe I could find a style that was nice looking, but much less
girly.  I remembered seeing something in the magazine last night.
I rushed to find it.
The style was called "Ocean of Waves."  The girl in the picture
was wearing a bathing suit and standing in water up to her chest.
There was a beach and some big rocks in the background. Her dark
hair, which seemed to be only a bit longer than mine, was done in
waves, not in curls.  The text said that this was a "simple,
casual 'do, fine for boating, a cookout, or fun at the beach."
The style looked neat and pleasant.  On a boy, I thought it would
be called "handsome" rather than "pretty."
      I decided to try it.  The setting diagram showed that it
could be done with rollers for big waves, or with something
called "wave clips" for smaller waves.  I wanted to try the big
waves.  I got out the some the biggest rollers I had.  The
magazine said the rollers should be around an inch in diameter.
I got the ruler from my model airplane stuff and measured a
roller.  Sure enough, mine were exactly one inch.
      I rolled up my hair.  The magazine said to use only a
little gel, so that it would be easier to brush the set into
loose waves.  I tried to follow the instructions, but it was
difficult to get my hair to stay on the rollers.  My hair barely
went around a full turn, and with so little gel, it was hard to
keep it on the roller while I got the big bobbi pin on it.
      I did manage to get my hair rolled up.  I put my blue
setting net on and got under the dryer.  I checked the time.  It
was only 7:05
      As usual I found the warm air, sweet smell and humming
sound to be soothing and exciting at the same time.  Did everyone
enjoy this as much as I did?  My hair had been almost too dry to
roll easily before I got the last roller in, so I decided to
check after only a half hour.  My hair felt dry.
      I let it cool for a while, then took out the rollers. The
instructions said to loosen the curls carefully and to brush them
up, to create height.  I worked on it for about 5 minutes, but I
wasn't getting anywhere.  It didn't look anything like the
picture.  The more I worked at it, the less of a wave my hair
had.  It almost looked like I hadn't set it at all.  I was
getting frustrated.  I wanted a nice hairstyle, I just didn't
want curls today.  Instead I was getting a kind of haystack.  It
really bothered me.  Heck, it even bothered me that I cared so
much.  How much should a boy care about his hairdo?
 

continue soon..........
 sat there at my desk looking at myself in the mirror.  It was
already 7:40.  I didn't have time to set my hair again, even if I
wanted to wear curls today, and I didn't want to.  This haystack
would never do. It wasn't nearly neat enough for Mom's
well-groomed hair rule.
"Robbie, breakfast in 10 minutes.  Remember, get dressed for
church."
That did it.  No more time to think about it.  I opened the
bottle of Hair Trainer and poured a big gob of it into my hand.
I worked it into my hair and used my rat-tail comb to make a
careful part.  I combed my hair into place, with the standard
boy-style wave in front.  No doubt about it, add a few freckles
and I'd be a living double for Howdy Doody.
"Robbie, we don't want to be late for church.  Breakfast is on
the table"
I dressed quickly in tan chinos, brown loafers and a white short
sleeve three button shirt.
Mom wasn't pleased when she saw me.  She didn't seem angry, but
she sure wasn't smiling.
"Well your clothes are OK for church in the summer, but just
barely.  As for your hair, it qualifies as well groomed, but I'm
disappointed.  I've seen you do so much better.  Didn't I hear
your hair dryer running this morning?"
"Mom, I didn't want to wear another curly hairdo today. I'm a
boy, and today I wanted to look and feel like one.  I admit that
I like having nice looking hair. I even admit I enjoy doing my
hair.  It's just that today I wanted waves, not curls. I couldn't
get the style to work, so I ended up like this. I really don't
want to look like a girl today, I've been teased enough by my
friends."
"When will you get over this talk about 'boy this and girl that?'
Your friends? You mean those kids who tease you as often as play
with you? Why do you care about them? How about the nice new
friends you made yesterday? I'm sure they didn't tease you about
your hairstyle. I spoke to Mrs. Thomas on the phone last night.
She told me about the new club you children formed at her house.
Betty told her about all the great activities you kids have
planned for the summer. Is this how you want to look if you meet
any of them this morning?"
I thought about Betty.  She seemed to like me. A lot. I was sure
she wouldn't like my hair, if she could see it now.
      "This isn't what I wanted, it is just how my hair turned
out."
      "Did you ever think to ask me for help with it?"
      "Guys don't usually ask their mothers for help combing
their hair, once they're old enough to do it themselves."
      "Stop worrying about 'what guys do.'  You're my dear
child.  Let me help you in any way I can"
      Mom was standing behind my chair. She put her arms around
me and hugged me.
      Mom sounded like she really meant it.
      "I really wish we could do something.  I would prefer
waves to this, but there isn't time anymore, is there?"
      "We may be able to improve the situation a bit.  I have
something we can try, but we have to get your almost dry first.
Do you have setting gel or lotion in it, or just water?"
      "I've got Hair Trainer in it. I figured, at least I could
get it to stay neat."
      "Well, we have to get that out of there.  My idea won't
work on stiff hair.  Take off your shirt, and you can rinse it
out right here, in the sink."
      I took off my shirt.
"Here wear this.  It will keep your slacks dry."
Mom handed me a big apron from the closet.  It was white and had
a lacy band that went around my neck.  The front came up to the
top of my chest, and the bottom was below my knees.  It almost
wrapped around me.  Mom tied it in the back.  I noticed that it
was very frilly.
"Do I really need this?"
"I said, it will keep your slacks dry.  Come on, we are in a
hurry."
I quickly rinsed my hair under the tap.  Mom was waiting with
three towels. She made me use them one after another, to get as
much water as possible out of my hair.
"Now come with me"
We went up to my room.  My dryer was still on the table.  Mom
pulled the hose free from the bonnet and turned the dryer on to
"very hot."  She showed me how to work with the dryer hose in one
hand and a brush in the other to get the last of the water out of
my hair.
"You keep that up until its fully dry, Just keep brushing from
front to back."
Mom left my room.  I finished drying my hair. The warm air felt
nice and all the brushing was making my scalp tingle.  I got my
hair very dry. It was really standing up, almost on end when Mom
returned.
She was carrying a gadget I had never seen before.  It had a cord
and plug, a black plastic handle, and a chrome colored metal rod
about 8 inches long, at one end.  It looked almost like a
soldering iron, but there was no copper tip.
"Well, it looks like you're ready for the hot iron"
Mom was smiling.
"What are you going to do, brand me like a bull?"
"Not if you sit very still."
Mom unplugged my dryer and plugged in the gadget.  She placed it
carefully on my desk and began to comb my hair.
"Wow, it must have taken me longer than I thought to find this
curling iron.  You got your hair very dry.  I actually need it to
be a tiny bit damp"
I could smell something getting warm.  I reached over and
gingerly touched the chrome barrel of Mom's gadget.
"Ouch. You weren't kidding about the hot iron were you?"
"Why would I kid you about that?"
Mom still had that smile in her voice.  I didn't think she was
going to hurt me, but still, I was getting very scared.  Mom
walked away, but was back in a few seconds.  She had something in
her hands that looked like a bottle with a rubber squeeze bulb
attached.  I watched in the mirror as she pointed it at my hair
and squeezed the bulb a few times.  There was a strong sweet
smell.
"Whew, that perfume is strong.  Why are you spraying it on my
hair?"
"It isn't perfume, its called cologne.  It is weaker than perfume
and it doesn't last that long.  It makes your hair damp, but it
will dry very fast"
Mom sprayed two more blasts at my head, then went back to
combing.  I watched in the mirror.
"Now for the fun part.  Better hold still."
I didn't know if mom was joking or serious.  I saw her pick up
the curling iron.  I watched in the mirror as she combed up a
section of hair and pressed the trigger on the iron.  Now I could
see that the iron had a jaw that opened, almost like a scissors.
Mom caught the hair between the jaw and the barrel.  She let the
jaw close on my hair.
"Hold very still now"
"Mom I'm afraid, that iron is hot"
"Don't be such a 'fraidy cat, some little girls get this done all
the time"
She rolled the hot iron toward my scalp until I could feel the
heat. She didn't actually touch my head with it.
I was afraid she would burn me by accident.  I just sat there
looking in the mirror, watching Moms every move, trying to keep
perfectly still. The frilly top of the apron was starting to itch
against my chest, but I was afraid to move to scratch.  The smell
of the cologne got very strong as the hot iron dried it out of my
hair.  What a dangerous way to get waves in your hair!

letzer eintrag vom

 Mom continued to work on my hair with the hot curling iron. She
would separate a section, catch it with the clip on the iron,
roll it around the iron, down close to my scalp, and just hold
the iron there for a few seconds. Then she would carefully loosen
the iron a bit and slide the curl off the end, rather than unwind
it.
I was getting very excited as I watched the curls form on my
head.  I was starting to feel very warm, especially my penis.  I
could feel it getting stiff against my underwear.  Somehow,
seeing my hair being done like a little girl might have hers
done, and process itself being a bit dangerous and slightly
uncomfortable, made it all the more exciting. The light fabric of
my chinos was starting to bulge as my penis enlarged.  I was
afraid Mom would notice see it, and say something. I knew if I
tried to cover the bulge, I would only draw attention to it.  I
could only sit there and hope she wouldn't look at my lap.
"There, we're finished with the iron."
Mom set the iron on the desk and pulled out the plug.
"That thing got a lot hotter than my dryer.  I'll bet these curls
will really last."
"Not as long as you might think.  A good wet set lasts much
longer than this will.  You can work with these curls a little
bit, but they really aren't very strong."
I combed through the curls very gingerly. I still wanted a wavy
look, but I was afraid of ending up with straight hair again.  I
stopped combing with my hair still a bit curlier than I would
have liked.  Mom watched without commenting.
"What do you think, Mom?"
"Not bad, but it would look better if you make the front a bit
softer."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you mind if I help?"
"I guess not."
"Here, like this."
Mom gently pulled a few little wisps of hair down onto my
forehead.  They didn't look anything like the straight, even
bangs I had worn, or like the gel curls.  These looked softer,
almost like they had just fallen there by themselves. They curled
like an open C and all the ends swept toward the right.
"Do you like it this way, Robbie?"
I did like the look. It was definitely a hairdo, but it wasn't
nearly as stiff looking as some of the other styles I had tried.
"Yes I do like it. Thank you."
I started to get up from my chair.
"Not yet.  This 'do won't last an hour without spray."
"I thought this was a soft look."
"Suit yourself, but remember my rule.  You have to keep your hair
well groomed"
I sprayed my hair, but kind of lightly.  We left for church.
We were almost late.  We got there and found seats near the back.
I could see Jen and Aunt May.  They were sitting about 3 rows up
from us.  I looked around for Betty Thomas, but I didn't see her
at all.  As usual, the service seemed to last far longer than the
hour and fifteen minutes shown by the clock.
Jen caught up to me, right next to our car.
"Oh you sweet little thing!  Now you have angel bangs."
I gritted my teeth
"Good morning to you, dear cousin.  Your hair looks very nice
too."
It really did too.  Jen's long, loose, shiny curls bounced with
every step she took.
"Don't mention my hair, sissy.  You know how I feel about wearing
curls."
"Sorry, I really meant it as a compliment"
I didn't want to get into a fight with her here, not outside
church, with Mom around.
"Ooo the sissy paid me a compliment.  You sound more like a girl
than I do. Let's see how you like this."
Jen put her hands on my head and rubbed them around for two or
three seconds, trying to mess up my hair as much as possible. She
turned and ran back toward her mother.
I didn't follow.  Even if I caught her, we would just end up in a
fight, and I knew what the consequences of that could be. I tried
to pat my hair back into place.  Mom had seen the whole thing.
"She is a troublemaker, I must say. Let me help you."
Mom had taken a brush out of her purse and was trying to brush my
hair. I could feel the brush getting caught on the on the sprayed
waves.  Mom had to pull to get it through.  It was very
embarrassing to have her doing this in public.  I just wanted her
to stop.
"Mom, can't we wait till we get home?"
"We aren't going straight home.  I want to stop at the mall. I
want you to look nice."
Mom made me stand there while she did her best to fix my hairdo.
When I thought she had finished, I started to get into the car. I
opened the door and felt the shot of hot air pour out of the car.
"Not yet sweetheart."
She reached into the open passenger door and opened the glove box
and fished around.
"Here it is."
She had a small can of hairspray!
"The only way to repair a sprayed hairstyle is with more
hairspray.  Hold still."
I thought I knew what to expect.  I had been using spray for two
three weeks. Wow, the spray shot out of the hot can with much
more force than usual. My face was surrounded with the fragrant
mist.  Mom sprayed, worked on my hair with her fingers, and
sprayed again.

"There, that's about the best I can do.'
We got into the car.  As soon as we got rolling, the breeze from
the windows made the car much more comfortable.
"Robbie, there's a mirror on your sun visor, if you want to check
your hair."
I pulled the visor down and looked in the mirror.  Mom's "repair"
had left my hair curlier than when we had left the house.
Instead of soft waves, the top had some definite curls, there
were curly wisps on my forehead, and one big wave above my right
ear.  My hair was stiff.  Mom had used a lot of spray.
We got to the mall and parked.  Mom said she needed some things
from the ladies shop, and that I could get an airplane model at
the toy store, and we could have pizza for lunch.
We went into the ladies shop first. Mom made me stay close to her
while she picked out some stockings and underpants, but she
called them "panties."  I felt embarrassed when showed me the
panties and made me feel how soft the fabric was.
"See, these are not like boys underpants at all. They much
lighter, and softer.  I'm sure all of the girls in your club wear
things like these, not heavy, rough underpants."
As we walked toward the cashier, we saw a Back-To-School display
for girls.
"Ugh, Mom, can't they leave kids alone for the summer.  Who wants
to think about school now."
Mom acted like she didn't even hear me.
"Oh these things are so pretty.'
She took a blue skirt from a hanger and held it up against my
waist!
"Mom, no, I won't..."
One of the store's clerks came over.  She was a bit older than
Mom.
"May I help you?"
"I was just admiring this skirt.  It is beautifully made."
"Yes, it is.  I know how you feel.  I wish I could see my
children in pretty things, but I have all boys.  I don't think
your son would want to wear this."
The clerk looked at me.  She smiled, then her expression changed.
"Would you enjoy wearing girls clothes?  Your hair and face are
so pretty for a boy. I can tell that you care a lot about how you
look."
I tried to melt into the floor.
"Don't be ashamed."
I was horrified.  Talk about embarrassed.  This was worse than
being mistaken for a girl.  At least, if someone thought I was a
girl, they might compliment me, and that was that.  Now, I was
actually being called a sissy, and by an adult.
I guess the clerk saw me turning colors, because she hurried
away.
Mom had returned the skirt to the rack, and picked out a green
dress. It had a big square-cornered white collar, with fancy trim
around the edge. I tried to squirm away as Mom held it up to see
how it would look on me.  Mom held me tightly by the shoulder and
spoke just above a whisper.
"I know your new club will be having at least one dress-up event
this summer. Betty's mother told me.  You don't want to feel left
out, do you?"
Mom made me use the dressing room and try on the dress.  I had
never worn anything like it before.  It felt so light and airy.
I had no idea that clothing could feel so special.  I was getting
very excited.  My penis was sticking straight out.  The dress was
loose enough so Mom didn't see it, but I think she knew how I was
feeling.
Mom made me twirl around in front of the 3-sided mirror in the
dressing area.  The bottom of the dress flew out, away from my
body as I turned.  When I stopped, the dress kept moving for a
second and wrapped around my legs, then fell loose.  The feeling
was indescribable.  It was like I was a character in an ancient
story, surrounded by flowing robes.  I almost forgot that I was a
boy in a dress.
I changed back into my chinos, shirt and loafers.  Mom had made
me try on the dress barefoot.  Mom put the dress over her arm.
"Can we please leave now?  I'm getting hungry"
I was actually getting nauseous.  The embarrassment, then the
excitement, had my stomach in knots.  I just wanted out of that
store.
"Two more items, Robbie.  Then lunch."
Mom lead me to another underwear counter, this one was under a
sign that said "girls".
She picked out a package that said it contained 3 pairs of girl's
panties.  They were folded so that the colors of all three pairs
showed through the plastic.  There was a pair of pink, one yellow
and one light green.  Mom also picked out a girl's slip.
"I'm not sure you need one with this dress, but it can't hurt."
I stayed about 10 steps from Mom as she checked all the stuff out
at the cashier.  It was bad enough that the clerk knew that Mom
was buying girls clothes for me.  Maybe if I stayed back a bit,
the cashier would think she was buying this stuff for my sister
or something.
We went to the pizzeria and each got a slice and a coke.  As we
ate, two boys came in.  One was about my age and one was older.
He looked old enough to drive.  They got their food and sat at
the table right behind ours.  They were talking.
"Boy, I'm glad I'm not HIM.  He looks like he has girl's hair.
What a sissy!"
"Hey, don't talk so loud.  Maybe his mom makes him wear it that
way."
"Do you think so?  I wonder what other girl things he has to do."
I felt like jumping up from the table and running away.  I was
about to start crying, screaming and running all at once. I guess
Mom noticed.
"Robbie, take it easy.  Don't mind them."
It all came out at once in a flood of tears.
"Mom this is worse than being called a girl.  I don't want to be
called a sissy. It would be better if they thought I was a girl,
than call me a sissy all the time."
 

letzter eintrag vom 24 . 8.