MY ADVENTURES WITH CROSS-DRESSING
The title should read My Adventure With Cross-Dressing since I only wore women’s clothing once. Actually it was not women’s clothing, it was my older sister’s navy blue jumper dress.
I was four years old and had this obsession with my sister’s jumper dress. I envied her when she wore it. My sister’s other clothing did nothing for me, but I had to wear her jumper dress. I kept asking Mom if I could wear it.
“No, boys don’t wear girls’ clothing,” she said
I did not care that boys did not wear girls’ clothing, I wanted to wear my sister’s jumper.
“Pretty please with lots of ice cream and a cherry on top!” I said over and over and again.
(Pretty please with lots of ice cream and a cherry on top was the way we pleaded for things. I have no idea where this expression came from, but we believed it made our requests stronger.)
Finally, after lots of pleading, Mom gave in and let me wear the jumper. It was a little big for me, but this did not stop me from wearing it.
How thrilling wearing my sister’s jumper! I ran up and down the stairs in ecstasy! I am not sure how long I did this, but I had to stop to go to the bathroom.
I pulled down my underwear and sat on the toilet. Unknown to me, the back of the jumper hung down into the bowl. Part of the hem folded up. It did not touch the water. I discovered the jumper’s position when a turd jumped from my bum into to folded hem, swayed to and fro as if on a swing, before diving into the water.
The thrill and the ecstasy, of wearing my sister’s jumper, died with the diving turd. I never had this problem wearing my clothes, and I never wanted this problem again. How did girls go to the bathroom without getting poop on their dresses?
I took off the jumper and gave it back to my mother. I never told her about the turd swinging in the folded-up hem. I did not want to get into trouble. Mom took the jumper and hung it back in my sister’s closet.
So ended my adventure with cross-dressing.