Soon enough, she begins to wonder why I never spend the night at her house or invite her overnight at mine. Whenever she questions me about this, I immediately steer the conversation elsewhere to avoid any further blushing and embarrassing.
Because she is so steadfast, she insists I clarify this mystery. My cheeks burn a deep crimson when I reluctantly approach my chest-of-drawers especially reserved for my nightwear. I open up the top drawer expecting her to laugh with contempt at my dozen or so adult-sized white Gerber vinyl pants. Instead, she beams a smile and proceeds to paw through them until she finds the pink one I have hidden at the bottom. Giggling with mad delight, she pulls it out, shakes it open and gleefully exclaims, "Oh, my. These are so cute!" Then, she playfully pinches my apple-red cheek. "And you're a cute sissy!"