No I don't want to write another chapter of this...

Ok fine! but they better work when I check later.

I stand there at the door which is open while Mom and Mrs. Peterson chat a mile a minute. Neither of them have moved from there spots although they are hugging and jumping. I swear my mom is never ever like this. Through the door I can see our old caravan with its layers of rusty panels almost dropping rust on the ground. Ok its not really that bad but when in contrast to such a pretty yard it does stand out like a sore thumb.

Mom does move, finally, but follows Mrs. Peterson towards the kitchen. It seems I am not invited along great. I look out the door at the van. Brain central kicks in.

1) We run to van and lock ourselves in then strip out of all this girly finery.

2) We try to run to van and kill ourselves tripping over these shoes.

3) Should you or any of your team get caught you will be disavowed. This is NOT the time for mission bloody impossible!

Before I can move or make up my mind Crystal comes and rescues me by shutting the door and dragging me back to the party. More of the girl rapid speak continues and in less than three seconds I am hopelessly lost. I try to explain its my mother and she and Mrs. Peterson greeted each other by first names. This sparks a round of girlish glee and giggles interspersed with comments like old lovers, school mates, eloping. I mean really this just makes no sense to me at all.

I move back to where my plate was with the finger foods. Its gone and all the plates of various healthy junk food are also gone. My stomach lets me know it isn't all that happy that I only wetted my appetite. This is so not fair all I did was answer the door. I pout and get hugged. Note to self a pout in a group of girls means you need a hug. Somehow if they knew I was a boy I would not get the hugs. Girls are so weird.

I move towards the kitchen. I am male and hungry we seek out food its a primal instinct! Ok if you really believe that I have a nice ferrari back home I can give you a great deal on. But really I did go towards the kitchen to find my mother and Mrs. Peterson both carrying a large cake with, YUCK, Pink icing on it and a fair amount of candles.

"Bless you Krisa be a dear and bring the plates and napkins this cake is a little big to walk with."

Ok apparently I am a maid now..wait shouldn't that be butler? Is there a name for a servant that is one sex and is dressed like another? I wonder what the inside of jails look like? Am I going a bit insane? Shut up brain central your not helping!

On the island counter is a small stack of real china plates, with cutlery, and fancy pink napkins...pink? Oh right girls party. I had forgotten what I was dressed up as. It seemed so unfair all I ever seen before for cake was paper plates and plastic utensils. Yet these girls got fancy napkins, in pink still not thrilled about that, and real china for cake. I mean cake of all things. Ok maybe I just a little freaked out by everything that has happened.

I take the plates and napkins back into the family room with this dress swishing around my bare legs and of course reminding me about juniors prison in painful terms. Down boy! Due to circumstances I minced into the room. I bent down at the knees to put the plates on the low table with the cake, whose candles were all lit. Mom watched me with hawk eyes the entire time. It made me really really nervous. I backed up and sat on the couch. Mom just said skirt and I blushed, got up , then sat back down after sweeping my hand underneath. I kept both knees locked together and fidgeted nervously.

The girls all started with the happy birthday to you song. I joined in lip wise but couldn't speak since my throat was as dry as a desert. Crystal blew out the candles in one blow to the squeals of delight of the girls, I just clapped my hands. The girls all dug out presents from nowhere, well it looked that way, for Crystal with Mrs. Peterson watching over it all with a big smile. Mom came and sat down beside me and gave me a small hug. I just leaned into her and in a few moments I turned into her blouse and started to cry. Mom's face went from 'You are so in trouble when we get home' to that soft smile and radiated a warmth that helped. I know its not the best words but its really not easy to describe.

Mrs. Peterson was of course all concerned and after a minute or two the girls noticed and they came on mass for the hug again. I could get to like this. The girls all asked what was wrong. Mom said that I was probably a little overwhelmed. She did ask how this had all occured. The story of how I was mistaken for Crystal came out. Mrs. Peterson then gave the girls all a look and enmass they chorused "What?"

"Well its no real surprise that they are so close in looks its a family trait as they are second cousins."

"What?" That was me that time.

"Well Erica and myself are cousins and have been the best of friends or were in our younger days."

"Yes the last time I saw you was like 12 years ago you were just a few months pregnant at Martys wedding to who this little girl was the flower girl for." Crystal blushed.

"Oh so this young lady was that flower girl. My how you have grown it seems like yesterday. But of course you were what three at the time?"

"She was almost two actually and it took me a week to get her to walk without trying to eat the flowers. I gather Krisa was with Aunt Mary at the time?"

"Well no.. Krisa was in me at the time."

"Your only twelve?" That was Patty. But it looks like the other girls are all staring at me too. I shrink back behind my mom. Yep I looked exactly like a very shy little girl.

Many comments are made that I could be Crystal's younger sister. Rapid girlspeak ensues and Mom and myself provide nods. Ok I just followed mom's lead she might be able to understand it but I couldn't. At one point the girls crowd around Mrs. Peterson with many a whisper and enough giggles that I cannot make out a single thing.

Mrs. Peterson then comes over to my mother and whispers into her ear. My mom gets a rather blank look on her face. Silent parent communication ensues with mom eventually leaving me to follow Mrs. Peterson into another room.

For the next hour I am forced to recreate my life so far in the terms of a girl with much prompting from the other girls. It kinda snowballed into a very believeable tale. I didn't mention that my man boobies were the result of fat I just said they developed about a year ago. Some of the questions of feminine hygiene products were completely lost on me and I said so. I got your so lucky. I guess I was but still not sure why.

The girls started to tell me all about there school. St Marys Catholic Girls Academy. Now there is a mouthful. Crystal even ran upstairs and came back down with her uniform to show it to me. I said it was very nice, but I wouldn't wear it. Well its true. Its a pink jumper dress with a white blouse underneath. I was told that its a bit dated and something of a pain to wear but it does remind one to be a proper lady at all times. Fridays are casual day where they can wear either a nice dress or skirt to school as pant were not allowed.

They asked me if I had either a denim dress or skirt, to which I responded no. This sparked a torrid of the best places to buy this or that skirt or top to go with that skirt. Honestly its like girls are injected with this knowledge of what to wear and when. I much prefer my normal male attire. Sweat shirt and jeans or sweatpants.

Mom and Mrs. Peterson came out after awhile still talking, mom was smiling and talking about how she would think about it. I dunno but she did tell me to say good bye to the girls. Which got me another group hug and many apologies for how they had acted earlier. By the end even I was getting tearful. Mrs. Peterson handed me a bag with all of the clothes I had on before. No sign of my sisters clothes though.

We did get some more cake, I had vacuumed up some earlier but didn't notice, wrapped on a paper plate. I also was given my purse,I forgot about it again. Mom and Mrs. Peterson hugged and made vague promises of getting together again soon.

I would guess that by the time we finally got to the van and inside, I barely remembered how to get in with the twist and leg thing, I was surprised to learn it was 6 pm. The day just seemed to fly by so quickly. Mom started the van and we waved bye to the girls and Mrs. Peterson till they were out of site.

The ride home was silent as a tomb in the van. Mom would look at me open her mouth to say something then stop and continue to drive. At one point we stopped for a train. Mom put the caravan into park and just sat there. Eventually she sighed and looked at me again.

"So.. Krisa is it?" I nodded what else was I supposed to do.

"Is there something you perhaps want to tell me? Like why Erica had me fill out an application form for you to attend St Marys Catholic Girls Academy? Or why there may be a scholarship for you? Or what I am gonna tell her about the offer she made for me to work for her husband at a much better wage?"

"Uhmmmm...." So this is what it feels like to die.