I Hadn't Expected to Be the First in My Class with Boobs

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It was a Monday, I had just showered after PE and was alone in the middle school locker room. I usually was since I almost always helped coach tidy up after class. Coach had reminded me many times that “sucking up” wouldn’t get me any better grades. That didn’t matter, I LIKED helping people. Why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like I lost anything by doing that. Coming into the locker room late meant that I didn’t have to deal with the crowd in the rather small locker room. Much less stressful. After PE I had lunch break and coming late meant that I didn’t have to hustle in the queue in the canteen.

Anyway, I was sitting there alone in the locker room scratching my chest that had been bothering me for some time. Maybe I had some kind of inflammation since I had developed mounds there. I didn’t like to see doctors but if this continued I just might have to. That was when coach happened to come into the locker room.

He just took one look at me scratching and the mounds. He told me to put on a shirt and follow him into his office. He told me in a serious voice NOT to close the door. I didn’t understand why he had to say that, we never closed the door when he called us into his office. He asked me the number to Mom. He told her what he had seen and that he recommended that a doctor had a look at it. Well, since Mom is head of HR at the Hospital that wouldn’t be a problem. Coach told me to go to the other classes and NOT come back to PE before I had an ok from the doctor and to be sure to have a supporting garment for the mounds when I did.

Well, things moved quickly. Mom had used her influence and called in favors so starting at 7 am I was prodded and poked and bled and imaged in all imaginable ways. By Thursday lunch I got the verdict. I had gynecomastia. Duh, what a surprise! Why? The short answer when penetrating all the technical terms: They had absolutely no idea. Hormones were within normal parameters. They had not been able to find anything wrong with me. Miriam, the doctor in charge told my mother

- Laura, you have a perfectly healthy son with a pair of extremely well-shaped firm breasts that any little girl would die for.

I was a bit irritated that she talked to my mother and not me. Apparently having firm and well-shaped breasts was unusual for a boy. Only goes to show that I’m special.

Mom took me shopping after that. She was worried that I was so silent.

- John, I’m sorry this has happened to you. Don’t worry we will support you.
- Oh Mom. Why should I worry? Miriam told you that I’m perfectly healthy with perfectly formed breasts. No, it’s just that I hadn’t expected to be the first in my class to get boobs.
- John, breasts, not boobs. Boobs isn’t a polite word.
- Sorry Mom. I hadn’t expected to the first in my class to get breasts. I kind of like them though.

Mom hugged me hard and I thought I heard her mumble something about wonderful weird boy. I wished she hadn’t hugged so hard though. My breasts were rather sore.

We went to the mall and entered a J.C. Penney. It was quiet, partly because all kids were in school. Mom asked a lady who worked there to help us.

- So your name is John and you want a bra? I have a boy cousin that also wanted a bra when his girl friends all got theirs. It was all a phase though and he soon grew out of those ideas.

I liked that she talked to me and not to Mom, even if she clearly wanted Mom to hear what she said.

- I don’t want a bra. I NEED a bra!
- (Smiling) So you NEED a bra. Then we’d better get started. Take off your shirt and let’s see. Do you want your mother to leave or stay?
- She can stay. Why shouldn’t she?
- Some girls are shy.
- Girls! (with contempt in the voice)

By then I had bared my breast(s).

- Oh my! Your really do NEED a bra. If I may say so I’ve never seen a more perfect pair of breasts at a first fitting. Let’s measure.
Yes, you need an A cup perhaps even a small B cup to grow into.

At that Mom intervened.

- No, let’s get bras that really fit. We can buy more later.
- So, John. What kind of bras do like? Fancy, frilly ones or plain functional. Colors? Girls can spend hours to find just the right bra. We can have such fun.
- Why? I just want something that keeps my breasts in place. They hurt when they jiggle. I want something functional.

I wound up with four plain functional white bras. Two sports bras that were a bit more dashing and for some reason Mom insisted on a black frilly one as well. The nice lady made sure that they all fitted me perfectly. Leaving the shop I appreciated the support. No jiggling anymore. Nice!

Friday morning I came to school in my usual jeans and white t-shirt. Harold, the biggest and strongest kid in our middle school looked strangely at me. I usually avoided Harold since he was rather unpredictable. He wasn’t really mean and not a bully but at times he could react badly for no apparent reason and you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.

- Hey, John! What’s that on your shoulder under your shirt?
- Oh, that? It’s just a bra strap.
- A bra strap? You’re wearing a bra?
- Yes, it helps keep my breast in place. It’s rather uncomfortable when they jiggle.
- BREASTS?! You have boobs?

Yes, I know, a really brilliant conversationalist wasn’t he? Not that I’d tell him that.

- Of course I have. And Mom says it’s impolite to call breasts boobs. You know, a majority of American kids develop breasts sooner or later.

I wasn’t sure this was true but it sounded good and it couldn’t be that far from the truth anyway.

- But you’re a boy and boys don’t have breasts
- Sorry to contradict you but I do have breasts and I’m a boy. I have had that verified within the last 48 hours. I have it on paper. Do you have a recent verification on paper that YOU are a boy?

Perhaps not the brightest thing to say. Harold just looked blank for a few moments and then he punched me on the shoulder. Even though it was a rather forceful punch I gathered it was playful since he guffawed and said in a loud voice

- You’re a funny kid. I like you. Hey you guys. John here is ok. He’s a buddy of mine don’t forget that.

At that he walked away still laughing. My classmates gathered around me and bombarded me with questions. I didn’t blame them. Actually, I was kind of huffed. My having breasts WAS rather interesting, wasn’t it?

Yes, I did have breasts (boy asking). “A” cup (girl asking). No, they couldn’t touch (both girls and boys asking). Yes, they itched but not as bad now as a couple of day ago since I used a cream now and the bra kept my breasts from chafing (several girls asking). Yes, they were all homegrown (girl asking), Yes, I had on good authority that they were very well-formed breasts (girl asking). NO, they couldn’t see (boy asking). No, I wouldn’t use they girls’ bathroom (girl, very relieved at my answer). No additives used, no extra growth due to added hormones. It was not like I was a piece of meat (Laura, the local nerd, asked).

The boys were confused and a bit weirded out. The girls were confused, curious and envious. I WAS the first in class with breasts. A boy! One girl was angry at me. Well to be honest stuck-up Elizabeth wasn’t really angry at me, she was absolutely furious at me. You see, she had expected to be the first. As a matter of fact I was only the second in my grade to wear a bra. Elizabeth had started a couple of weeks earlier. According to the girls in the same PE group (showering after class was obligatory) she had absolutely no reason to wear it.

I got the impression that some of them thought that I should have been ashamed of my breasts. Why should I? I was quite attached to them. They were a natural part of me.

Fortunately most kids just accepted that this was how it was. Most of them liked me. Even the girls. I told you earlier, I LIKE to help people. As a result I had a nice little pool of good-will. That first day the teachers were a bit careful. They mostly avoided asking me questions in class and so on. In the locker room before PE the guys tried to sneak a peek at my breasts. I suppose some managed. I wasn’t flashing them, standing with my back towards the room, but on the other hand l wasn’t exactly trying to hide them either. I exchanged the functional white bra to a rather nice sports bra. Good thing I did since Coach asked me (very carefully phrased)

- John, do you wear appropriate support garments?
- Yes, Sir! I both have my jock strap AND my pretty new sports bra.

Why did he look so surprised? Wasn’t this what he wanted to know? Or was it that I mentioned the word “bra” in the shrine of boyhood that the boys’ gym was? In that case: grow up!

I was glad I had my sports bra. I think it reduced the pain when my mates threw the ball at my chest.

After about a week most of the attention ebbed away. Too bad! I had liked it. Then Susan, who lived next door and was in my grade, asked me for a date Friday evening. I was rather surprised. Dating had not really started in our grade yet. I liked Susan so I told her that I’d ask Mom. I hadn’t expected Mom to allow it, especially since Susan asked me out as a girl, but she did. Mom told me it would be a “learning experience”. When I thought more about it I shouldn’t have been surprised. Mom is all for “learning experiences”.

However, I was really surprised that my sister Em took charge of getting me ready, after checking with Susan. Em was rather skinny and had this dress that was indecently short on her that was the right length for me. It quite nicely accentuated my breasts without showing cleavage. Em even gave me a pair of her old shoes, with a bit of a heel, she no longer used. She taught me how to apply very subtle make-up. That REALLY surprised Mom in positive way. Subtle is not exactly what Em is known for. I don’t think Mom was really consistent. It was she who told me to wear the black frilly bra SHE had got me.

Mom did have some conditions though. Em should be around all the time. Unfortunately Em, temporarily, wasn’t allowed to drive us (when stopped by the police be polite, it helps). Mom drove us there and when called would pick us up. At the mall, outside the multiplex, Em decided to give us some space (I did have my phone if she was needed).

- Hey kids, have fun. Oh, there was something Mom wanted me to tell you. Yes, that’s it. Don’t do anything I would do!

Good advice! My sister was in trouble most of the time. Not because she was evil but because of her “joie de vivre” as Mom used to say.

The movie wasn’t bad. Too bad it was spoiled by a lady that was offended that we caressed each other. We didn’t even kiss (I had decided that that was something Em would do). She got upset that two young girls caressed each other. That was unnatural she said. She got even more upset when I told her that it was ok since I was a boy. Not logical at all! We left the cinema and went to get something to eat. I saw the lady talk to a mall security guard and then the guard followed us around. After eating Susan needed to go to the bathroom. That’s when all the trouble started. As soon as Susan had gone into the ladies’ the MALE guard rushed in there and dragged her out. Em had been watching us from a distance (I had no idea she took her chaperoning duties that seriously) and came running. I’m not sure that she was any help. Apparently they security guard and Em had met before and not in a way that had endeared her to the guard. We were dragged to an office and they called the police. No one bothered to listen to us until the police arrived.There was a very nice lady police officer that asked us what had happened. When we had explained, she asked once again Susan if she was a girl, and me if I was a boy. I had a copy of the paper from the hospital to show her. The security guard got very upset.

- But THAT THING has boobs! It’s the other one that’s flat.

I was sort of offended to be called a thing and Mom says it’s impolite to call breasts boobs. I could see that the chief of security wasn’t amused either. She told us that they were very sorry for all this. Later Susan and I got very nice presents from the mall and a formal apology. That was also the last time we saw the security guard. We weren’t sorry. He sort of was a spoilsport and didn’t like kids at all, and especially not Em. After that Susan finally was allowed to go to the bathroom the nice police lady offered us a ride home. That was very nice since that way we didn’t have to bother Mom. We knew that she was busy at the hospital. Besides it was quite exciting to ride in a police car. Well, at least for Susan and me anyway. Em had done it several times before.

Since we had let Mom stay at the hospital we wound up at Susan’s home next door. We played some games, they have an awesome system in the basement, when Susan’s brother Gary came down there. He looked at me. Actually I think he mostly looked at my breasts that were accentuated by my pretty dress. Usually we were beneath his notice. Gary was a HIGH school student.

- Hi, Susan! Who’s your cute friend?
- Hi, Gary! It’s me, John. From next door.
- No way! I heard that you had got breasts but I hadn’t expected them to be that awesome. So, did you have a nice date girls?
- Not bad at all. We even got a ride back with the police.
- The police?
- Long story Gary. I’m sure Susan will tell you later.

Then Susan and I went back to playing. I could sense Gary standing there and heard him muttering something about me being pretty and something about walking like a duck and quacking like a duck. I certainly didn’t walk like a duck!

- Eh, John. Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?
- I don’t know. What do you plan do to? Is it ok with you Susan? And I have to ask Mom.

It turned out to be a high school baseball game followed by a pizza. Gary’s mother would be driving and be around. Susan thought it would be hilarious. Mom? You guessed it: another “learning experience”. Gary’s and Susan’s mother was tougher nut to crack but Mom talked to her about “learning experiences”. Em brought out a dress that showed a bit of cleavage. She told me I should show off my breasts a bit since it really was them that Gary had asked out. I couldn’t argue with that.

I had fun that Saturday. Gary’s friends were as impressed with my breasts as he had been. Gary was nice and he was kind of cute. Em had given me the usual reminder not to do anything she would do so kissing was not an option though. On Monday Susan told me that Gary had really asked me out as a joke to see if his friends could spot the “Booby trap”. They couldn’t. However, I think Susan wasn’t completely right since Gary asked me out the next Saturday for another game. Friday was already booked for a date with Susan.

That Friday was another interesting day at the mall. Susan and I spent most of the time looking in shops. Em had told me I needed a dress or two of my own and she was not prepared to lend me any hosiery! This time it was I who had to go to the bathroom. When I got in there I was alone but soon a very creepy guy came in and started talking to me. I didn’t like him at all. Why did he have to use the urinal next to mine when there were many other urinals there? And why did he keep looking at me? That way he missed the urinal for a while. I tell you that this time I was happy a security guard came in. This guard was really nice. He asked me if I’d mind having another chat with the chief of security. She had been rather nice the last time so I didn’t mind. As things turned out I got a special pass to the staff restroom. I felt very special. I liked that lady. The nice guard somehow always appeared to be near us after that. All in all, quite a good day. I got two very cute dresses so I wouldn’t have to borrow Em’s. I also got a skirt, a pair of shoes with a low heel, some pantyhose and, since the nice lady who had helped me with the bras suggested it, I also got a garter belt and stockings. Well, Mom always told me about “learning experiences”.

I usually spent the weekends on “dates” with Susan or Gary. We really didn’t do that much. We certainly didn’t do anything my sister would do. We mostly hung out and had fun. Gary’s friends had been a bit upset when they learned about the “Booby trap” and then it just became a joke and they became my friends as well. Just imagine a lowly middle school kid with HIGH school friends!

A couple of weeks later Susan was alone in the mall since I had another “date” with Gary. The nice guard was a bit surprised to find her with her friends and not me on a Friday. He asked her where her boyfriend was. Susan later told me he had looked quite funny when she told him that her boyfriend was having a date with his boyfriend.

Actually that was my last “date” with Gary because next week there was a big sibling fight about who had asked me out on the Friday. Actually, the problem was that Susan had grown jealous that her brother dated the same guy as she. After that Gary and I remained just friends and Susan and I started spending less time with each other.

By that time I was no longer the only one in my class with breasts. The next one the Booby fairy, sorry Mom, Breast fairy visited was Susan. This made Elizabeth even more furious. She started a rumor that my breasts were contagious. All too many kids believed her. This meant that the boys in my class kept a distance to me, except Harold, and the girls kept hanging around me. Now that I think about it, maybe Elizabeth was right. By the end of the year the girls hanging around me had all grown breast and none of the boys that avoided me had done that. The only problem is that I can’t explain Elizabeth who finally got her breast even though she avoided me and Harold who kept hanging out with me but never got any breasts of his own.

In the meantime I had started to expose school to some “learning experiences”. The fact that I used a one piece swimming suit when swimming was only natural given my breasts. Well, I did wear that cute bikini once, and only once. Some boys thought it was funny to untie my top. Wwhen I started to wear a leotard in PE Coach just smiled a bit and shook his head. Well, it did have a very fetching pattern apart from helping to hold my breast in place

The first time I wore a skirt to school I was sent to the Principal. I was sent back just as quickly. The Principal and I were old friends. I had helped him with minor matters several times. Remember, I LIKE helping people. The first time I wore pantyhose the same thing. Not that I wore girly clothes all the time. Only now and them to lighten up the school days, for me as well as for the teachers and rest of the students.

The third time I was sent to the principal was more embarrassing.

- John, why do you keep wearing girls’ clothes despite being a boy? Why do you have to disrupt school all the time? You used to be such a helpful little boy.
- Oh, Sir. It’s all a “learning experience”. And I DO help people by doing this. Especially you, Sir.
- How do you help by disturbing the school?
- I broaden the mind of people. I teach them to think outside their normal ways of thinking. And no offence Sir, but it’s particularly important for you.
- Right, now you’ve made me curious. Tell me, why do I need my mind broadened?
- Some day, not today and probably not this semester, but some day there will be terrified, troubled, confused kid sitting where I’m sitting. Hopefully with their supporting parents, but unfortunately that is not a given. That kid will tell you that he or she is not the girl or boy you thought. That mind and body don’t fit. After suffering through my antics you will take it all in the stride. And the kids in school will say “Have you seen that weird boy with a skirt” and someone else will say “Oh you mean Lucrezia? She isn’t weird. She’s boring. You weren’t here when John the Booby Trap was here. HE was weird”.
- So you’ve heard your nickname?
- Of course! I like it even if Mom says it’s impolite to call breasts boobs.
- Thank you for that lesson. I mean, all of it, not just the last part. Now back to the real reason you’re here. First a question: Do you consider yourself to be a gentleman?
- I try to be, Sir.
- Would a gentleman wear such a short skirt that the garters holding up his stockings can be seen?
- Oh!

Yes, I was really embarrassed. The skirt was shorter than I thought when I bought it. I hadn’t noticed until I was on the school bus.

- Please Sir, would it be within the bounds of your vast generosity to allow me to obtain the use of one of the school loaner skirts?
- Most certainly young master Marlowe. The aforementioned skirt awaits you yonder with the secretary.

I liked the Principal. He was fun. He was one reason why I was sorry to leave Middle school.

High school wasn’t as bad as I had expected. I had a ready-made reputation as the Booby trap. Almost half the kids in my class came from my old middle school. Then there was Harold. He had followed my career in middle school. He told me that I made school so much more fun and interesting. We remained friends until he left for college. While many other boys asked me out, and sometimes I accepted, Harold was never one of them. And then there were Gary and his friends. He was a senior at the time. He never asked me out again but he made it very clear to everyone that he cared for me.

I had great fun in High School. Susan and I remained friends and sometimes dated. I insisted to wear pants every second time. We never did anything Em would do until Junior year and I’m not sure we broke the rule even then since Em isn’t into girls. Mutual fondling of our breasts was nice. REALLY nice.

College was another great time. Yes, I was still known as the Booby trap. However, since I went to one of those liberal colleges where everyone is so anxious to be so tolerant no one dared to do anything else but be nice to me no matter how much I tried to provoke them. It was sooo frustrating and boring. I had to go Florida on Spring break with Harold to get some fun. I still don’t know if Harold or I was proudest when I won third place in a wet t-shirt contest! I still believe I’d have done better if I had shaved my face before the contest. Or it could have been because I never grew beyond a B cup but I’d dare any girl to show me perter, firmer and better formed breasts (implants don’t count!). Actually, I did dare a few girls during Spring break. I wonder why the girls in Florida got so angry at me when seeing my breasts when the girls in New Orleans at Mardi Gras just showered me with beads?

Well, the years passed. I graduated. I got an interesting job. I married Susan. We settled down in Suburbia. We had a daughter. And then we had a son.

I kept a close eye on our son so I noticed when he started scratching his chest. I had already warned my breast specialist that this could very well happen so I didn’t have any problem getting Peter into evaluation. She was thrilled to have a second male patient. As expected these doctors came to the same conclusion as the ones all those years ago.

They had absolutely no idea. Hormones were within normal parameters. They had not been able to find anything wrong with Peter. I couldn’t help but laugh when the doctor in charge told me

- John, you have a perfectly healthy son with a pair of extremely well-shaped firm breasts that any little girl would die for.

Almost word for word what they had said all those years ago. I even felt resentment that they addressed me and not Peter.

Things got a bit tense at home. Lauren didn’t take well the fact that her little brother got breasts before her. Since Susan took her to a spa to soothe her feeling it fell on me to get my son his first bra. Actually I rather looked forward to it. Peter? He couldn’t have been more eager to get his first bra. We headed to a J.C. Penney. Isn’t there where every parent takes their son to get his first bra?

We were as fortunate as I and my mother had been and we found a very nice and helpful shop assistant.

- So it’s time for your first bra. How exiting. So let’s leave daddy out here while I measure you. What is your name miss?
- I’m not a miss! My name is Peter and I’m a BOY! And I want dad to be with us!

The shop assistant’s chock was quickly brought under control and replaced by a very nice smile.

- Certainly, dad can come to if you want to. So you want a bra?
- YES, I have breasts. Nice breasts. Just look. I’m the first in my class to have them.

By now Peter had become quite excited and he had been quick to discard his shirt.

- Very nice indeed. Very well formed. Most girls would envy you.
Let’s measure you first.
A small A cup.
Do you have any special wishes what kind of bra you want?
- I want a bra just like dad’s!
- A bra just like dad’s?
- Well, miss I think he means something like this

And I proceeded to sort of flash her my breasts. Or more exactly I opened my shirt to show her my rather elaborate purple bra. Very functional though. Always functional above all!

- Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think that we have a bra like that in his size.
- Peter, I think you should look for something plainer for your first bra. You know, function above all. You want your breasts to feel comfortable. You don’t know yet but a well-fitted bra with good support is important. And you don’t really like purple do you?

As I mentioned Peter had started to get rather excited. When excited he tended to raise his voice and speak in a rather shrill and penetrating voice. All this led to some great fun for me and some embarrassment for the unfortunate shop assistant.

- Bright red! I want a bright red bra to show everyone that I’m the first boy in class to have breasts. The first of ALL in my class to have breasts. JUST LIKE DAD!

No one in the store could have avoided hearing that. That’s my boy!

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Comments

Still laughing!

Thank you for this entertaining story!

Martina

No

Daphne Xu's picture

"My Date as a Teenage Girl Model" and its sequels was the longest. (If you haven't read them, read them.)

-- Daphne Xu

Partially autobiographic

No, I never NEEDED a bra.
However, John's attitude to his bra - that it was something interesting rather than anything to be ashamed of - reflects an episode in my life.

In first grade a girl with very low selfesteem (not helped by her fellow students) came to school one day and she had glasses and was ashamed by that. She was teased. She soon left my school, for other reasons, and I forgot all about it. In third grade I started needing classes to see the blackboard. The first day I brought my glasses to school I proudly showed them off. Hey guys! Look at this interesting thing! I was not teased.

Yes, at over 5000 words this is by far the longest story I've posted here unless you count "My Date as as Teenage Model" AND the sequels that all are rather free-standing.

a very sweet story

and a lesson in tolerance, to boot.

well done !

DogSig.png

Middle School?

Daphne Xu's picture

The first in his class to get a bosom? You sure he wasn't nine, and in fourth grade?

"I wanna get a bosom like dear old Pa!" (A reference to some very old song, something like wanting to marry a wife like dear old Ma.)

This was nice and sweet. Not quite Corazón Tender❤ but...

-- Daphne Xu

I hadn't expected to be the first in our class with boobs.

I expected the story to be good and I wasn't disappointed. I really enjoyed the scene with the principal where they both learned lessons. A classic Bru type title and ending. Very good.

Time is the longest distance to your destination.

fun and intriguing

laika's picture

For a quick little story you;ve created some likeable and memorable characters. The narrator of course, who possesses an almost superhuman self-confidence for a middle school kid; and sister Em, with a wild streak but otherwise a decent soul; a supportive mom, the strange situation with dating both Susan and her brother; and of course Harold, whose real story was only hinted at. Characters who don't act much like anyone I know in RL but more like how people SHOULD act like regarding the titular character (OK I'm allowing myself ONE breast pun here) and his condition. I'd love to see more of this cast of characters but I can't imagine where you could take them from here...
~hugs, Veronica

I think I have to plead guilty to writing mostly sweet stories

I like sweet and nice stories. So I write sweet and nice stories, mostly. Every now and then I slip in a dark one.

At times I have to suspend normality :)
I think the essence of my stories is that I write what just possibly, but not probably, could happen. Usually I prefer to "err" on the bright side.

When I introduced Harold I had intended him to be a red herring. He became something more, even if mostly only in my head. Quite a nice guy when you get to know him. Weird but nice.

Don't worry though. I might not revisit these characters but there will be others.

Total Bru

BarbieLee's picture

Shall we step back and take another look at our resident evil mischief maker? The girl can't help herself, she was born with attitude and shares it joyfully. No need to ask how much of this story is autobiographical. "LOTS". Like Daphne I had a bit of a struggle with grades and age. But then the grades and age across the pond never made cents..., sense. Here back in the dark ages first grade was when one was six years old. Each grade progression mean I was one year older. Girls didn't develop until Jr. High. 7th through 9th grade thus they were thirteen 7th grade and fifteen by ninth grade. And truly blossomed in High School tenth through twelfth grade, sixteen to eighteen years old when we graduated. For more data there was no kindergarten back then. Our school didn't do it but at Canute the high schoolers drove the school buses. A different time, different world for sure.
Thus if John was dating Gary he had to be in the eighth grade and Gary in the tenth so when he entered high school, tenth grade, Gary was a senior, twelfth grade.

Our resident girl pal Daphne is the math wizard and I'm surprised she didn't run through the grades and numbers? Probably too busy studying yodeling as I think I mentioned something about it soothes the beast. Who needs martial arts when one knows how to yodel?

Back to the story. Bur got me again as there was no double upside down, spin around hidden gotchu in this one. Just a cute loveable story about a boy who accepted life as it was dealt and used what most would consider an embarrassment as something life hands out from time to time. Of course I especially love it when John tossed in everyone should be more understanding if a confused and embarrassed kid ever comes along.

There is a story on here "Boys School" by Sara Lynn Morgan where Chris was asked to dance by one of the boys and he asked Tom why? Tom''s answer has resonated with me every since I read he beautiful story. "Mostly though, Chris. When I'm eighty I'll still be telling folks: 'What do you think I did? I asked him to dance'."

Bru darling, the gold lame' dress you wore to the Charity Ball two weeks ago? I'd need a whole lot more in the upstairs and in the basement to wear that little clinging number. I think this time I'll just dream about having your figure.
Hugs
Barb
Life is a gift, treasure it don't waste it.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

I do have an attitude problem

My knee still has a tendency to stray to the side from the correct position right in back of my curved back, especially when en pointe.

So much can be learnt from Tom's answer.

No great insights to add.

No great insights to add. Just a very enjoyable story and I wanted to say I liked it very much.

Thank you!

Always nice to know that my stories brings pleasure to people.

A classic

Right up there with Aesop and Anderson. A fairy tale for the ages.

Always entertaining

crash's picture

I do love your stories. Thanks for posting this one. It was nice and sweet.
I wonder a bit about the non-conventional dialog formatting. It seems to work well even though it is not exactly "by the book".

Peace.

Your friend
Crash

Just for the sake of being different?

First of all, thank you for telling me you like my stories.

Sometimes I like to do different things or things in a different way. That was one reason why I started dancing ballet and later started taking pointe classes. However, that is not the reason why I still dance ballet, including pointe work (in my bright red pointe shoes). I found so much that I had expected and even more that I had not expected.

Believe it or not the dialog formatting in this story is the way I learnt in school (non-anglosaxon country) many years ago. Over the years I have seen many different ways of doing dialog formatting. In my opinion the formatting doesn't really matter as long as it's comprehensible.

If you want to, you can consider it as a "Learning experience" :)

Well

AuPreviner's picture

I expected another Bru ha ha. Or by the description, something that would bring back many happy mammarys.

Instead, I got to read a wonderful story that made me smile because it nicely Petered out in the end.

A terrific Bra Ha Ha, indeed!

Thanks for sharing,

AuP


"Love is like linens; after changed the sweeter." – John Fletcher (1579–1625)

Thank you for the smile

I'm a bit tired so I'm not really in shape for a good answer to your puns. Right now I'm just looking for a puncushion.

Funny

AuPreviner's picture

I thought you would strap yourself in and let your cups runneth over on this punderfull challenge.

AuP


"Love is like linens; after changed the sweeter." – John Fletcher (1579–1625)

Great fun

Glenda98's picture

And beautifully written!

Glenda Ericsson

I admit

I admit, it feells good when your efforts are appreciated. I hope to be able to bring some further joy to you and others in the future as well.

If you haven't noticed already I have some other stories posted here as well. A somewhat varied bunch though.

No hidden trick

but a very good sweet story about the right attitude.

Bru, a new peak has been achieved

OMG, told so matter-of-factly that I could pretty much believe every word. Very well done. Just could hardly believe what I was reading. This one has to go in my showcase of Bru stories. Tops them all. Thanks!

>>> Kay

I expect that the showcase is prominently displayed :)

Fortunately digital stories don't take much space. I suspect that you have more than one showcase for other writers as well.

I could pretty much believe every word Do you doubt that it could have happened this way?

Bru

Thank you!

Great story and the way life should be. Even today I have "trouble" being taken seriously when going for a mammogram. Women resent my breasts.
SJH

Envy, just envy

Sad though.

Happy to have given you a postive experience :)