This is the second entry in what I hope to be a continuing series of single-panel cartoons.

My Transgender Childhood #2
Copyright 2008 by Heather Rose Brown
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"You certainly owe me and your mother an apology," he said. "If you wanted to do this, you should have called and told us before you did it."

"Would you have said yes?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "I wouldn't."
 

"It was pale yellow," she recalled. "I could sort of see it through the dress."

"Uh, it wasn't a bra," I replied. "It was a bathing suit."

"Oh," she laughed. "A bathing suit?"

I sighed. How much was I going to have to admit to?
 

"Anyway," Ms. Tandy continued, "Why are you trying to keep a low profile? You're not on witness protection, are you?"

A student walking by overheard that remark, and his eyebrows shot up.

It was a nice evening, and Jerry walked me home. He put his arm around my shoulders and steered me so I could dig into the bag. There was a little coral-colored teddy bear, a brand new Barbie, and a small baby doll.

"Ah," Jerry said, as I showed him my presents, "It's remedial, you know? She's trying to get you caught up on the girly stuff you missed."

"Look, Diana," I said, "I'm sorry I had to tell you no. I wanted to go with you, and I thought that I could." She started to say something, but I put up my hand. "Wait. The thing is, Miranda is smart. She's fun to be with, and she's the same size as me —"

"Come on, Chapters!" she scolded, "Nobody gives a bleep about your bleeping height!" (Yes, she really did say "bleep" and "bleeping"!)
 

You see, Craigy, that’s what mates do, help each other out, now are you in or out?”

“Look this would only need to be a couple of times?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Okay I’ll do it”

“Sorry,” I said resuming my examination of her tongue and chest. Keen to move my examination on my hand drifted to her lower regions, and began to slip up her thigh towards the promised land. Just as thing’s were getting really interesting the peace was shattered.

It was Gordy: “Right, lads, put down who you’re doing and gather round. Lesley’s got a plan to fix Professor Prick for good.”

"Good Lord!" my aunt exclaimed as she looked at my arms and listened to my story. "How many days is it? Not even four days as a girl, and your life is an adventure!"

Nancy Patterson’s Criss-crossed Christmas Pageant
By Jennifer Brock

Nancy Patterson’s Christmas Pageant would be talked about for years, but not the way she’d been dreaming it would. (No offense is intended toward those who are active in their respective congregations.)

"My name is --- ah, my name is ---," Lizzie Jane stopped for a moment, seemed to go into deep thought and then exclaimed, "I don't know! I don't know who I am!"

"I don't know that, either," said Lizzie Jane. "I know it has not been recently.".
 

"Nina," I asked, "Do you think anybody knows this is just a doll?"

"Nope!" she replied brightly. "It looks too real."

"But it doesn't move," I said.

"So?"

I won't go through every detail of the day, but I will say that it didn't take me long to realize that Alice was joking when she said that waxing was fun. AND that it was nothing like waxing floors.