Hell-o Elizabeth,
Reaching into the “Waayyyy Back” file here. I was about 7 or 8 years old at the time.
I was in our one, and only, bathroom trying on a pair of my mother’s nylons when my slightly bigger/stronger older brother came knocking. Naturally I was in no hurry to leave my little sanctuary, and he continued to insist that I do.
Well, the knocking quickly turned into him turning that doorknob, and forcibly pushing the door open. I fought back, trying with all my might to hold that door closed, but my nylon clad feet upon that linoleum floor were quickly losing the fight.
He had won.
His victory had gotten him a complete view of me, collapsed on the floor, tired from the battle, feeling weak and embarrassed, defeated.
He then ran to the living room yelling for all to hear, “He’s in the bathroom wearing nylons!”. I was still in the bathroom when I heard mom reply to him “maybe he just wants to feel what it’s like to be a girl?”
BAM! Take that Bro! Mom doesn’t care!
To this day, I’ve never heard a word about it.
Much Love,
Kristyn
