A MAJOR point, a comment or so, the last episode of the current serial - and Rosie's 'Bits'

Good Morning!

My major point first.  A reader wrote me last week wanting to respond to my "What If" and wondering how to do this?

When I started this blog, I wanted to make it open to everyone - but I was warned off of this idea by previous blog owners, saying I'd get inundated by smut and obscenities. To phrase it as best as I can?:

Anybody can write in this blog.  ANYBODY. I simply don't want to be associated with nasty - so all anybody has to do the first time is write - and send a Word attachment to me at bdub2m@gmail  for insertion in this blog.  I will NOT edit it in any way - and will publish it if it has anything to do with subjects close to our hearts.  THEN?  If that person wishes to be an approved author - all they have to do is ask me. At that point I can make it that they can write to this blog at any time. I do reserve the right to remove them from approved authors if they get TOO nasty.  Thats IT!  Honest to God?  I WANT contributors with their points of view.  HONEST!

I obviously didn't explain myself too well about that cover for "Milked Maids".  It honestly isn't easy picking out covers - and I'm about as artistic as a brick wall.  That was NOT the choice of the cover designer I showed.  It was MINE.  (She thought it confusing).  So?  The next time I ask for help with a cover?  maybe somebody can come up with SOMETHING?  (BTW?  It's selling quite well!)

Well, here's the last part of the current serial.  I hope that you enjoyed it.

Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 7"

You CAN'T be thinking you're going out as a man. Surely not!  Not after what happened the last time!" Mistress said."Just this once?  I'll never ask again.  I promise!""I suppose you'll want to wear pants?" she asked."Yes.  Oh please.  Yes!""You know that I'd get a great deal of pleasure having you wear a pink party dress – all nice, with your hair up – like a grown up girl?""Yes.  But please?" I persisted."But you're still bound and determined that you want to go against what I want?""Just this last time. Please Mistress Candace" I pleaded."Well.  Okay.  But you don't get out of that door without my approval.  Understood?""Oh Thank you!  Thank you!" I said, almost blubbering in relief.I was on pins and needles for the next few days, laying plans for what I was to wear – and picking alternatives just in case Mistress Candace didn't approve of my first choice.  This turned out to be a total waste of time.
 It had been agreed that Nancy would come and pick me up.  I remonstrated about this, but was told rather firmly by Mistress Candace - "It's her that's taking you out.  Learn to accept it.  She'll might open doors for you and pull out chairs and all that good stuff.  So if she does?  Don't you be spoiling all of that for her.  If I hear that you don't behave like a lady at all times?  I'm going to be very cross with you!  Maybe some day a boy will want to take you out. Just think how good this practice will be for you!"
About two o'clock that afternoon, she appeared at home, much earlier than usual.  "Well sissy?  Let's get this show on the road.  Get undressed and get into your bath as soon as you're finished polishing that silver.""I meant to shower for tonight mistress" I said as tactfully as I could."So?  What you meant to do is of no consequence, is it?   I'm going to take care of your preparation for tonight.  You may thank me later.  But I'll expect you in my bathroom very quickly.  Comprendez?""Your bathroom mistress?""Would you like me to repeat myself sweetie?  Which would mean you weren't listening?""Oh no mistress.  I'm sorry.""I'll run your bath.  Isn't that nice of me?  Making myself your maid.  Shall I curtsey to you Miss?"
The irony and sarcasm in her voice were becoming more and more noticeable.  I gave her my prettiest curtsey. "I'm sorry mistress.  I was just overwhelmed by your kindness.  I meant no disrespect."She nodded approvingly. "My!  You ARE learning, aren't you?  Don't be long!"
When I appeared in her bedroom, the steam for the adjoining bathroom was filling the air with a very feminine floral scent. She appeared in the doorway.  "Glad you could finally make it sweetie. Get undressed and hop in."
I'd never appeared totally naked before her before, but I had no choice.  I stripped off then wrapped a towel around me and walked into the steam-laden bathroom.  She was kneeling down, swishing her hand in the water.  "I think it's just right for you now – Mistress!"Shy, I nodded, then dropping my towel, tip-toed into the water. I had just got in with both feet, when she reached in and aggressively cupped my genitals in her hand."They're not really that much, are they?  Worth all the fuss?"
I didn't answer.  Just stood, shaking, until she let go and I was able to settle down into the hot, heavily scented, water.
Dazed with the heat- or cowardice – I made no objection as I was powdered with a large applicator when I had stepped from the water and been dried in a large, warm, towel.
I wasn't sure of what was happening when she started helping me into the clothes she had chosen for me that evening – they were very pretty, true – but were more the essence of femininity than the masculine clothes we had agreed on.  She HAD to have something different in mind I thought as I was slowly dressed in gorgeous undies of matching hot pink satin.  The bra took some time to fit to me as one of the little shoulder strap buckles gave us problems, but the camisole, panties, garter belt were no problem at all.
She then had me step into a three-tiered petticoat – one of the most ephemeral pieces of lingerie I'd ever encountered.  I think each tier was of chiffon, but each was edged with a silk band of about three inches wide and in a complementary color to the chiffon.  Each layer was in a different pastel shade of course, so the whole effect was very pleasing.
"Close your eyes and put your hands together up over your head.  Yes, that's a girl." Miss Candace said.I did so, then heard a rustling sound ,and then a delicious feeling of silkiness sliding down over my body."Lovely!" Miss Candace said, fastening me in at the back, then fluffing the skirts of the dress out more evenly about the petticoats. "Didn't I tell you?"
I looked at the girl in the pink dress in the mirror, then turned to Miss Candace."But?  But?  I don't understand.""What's to understand?  I  distinctly told you that you'd be pretty in pink.  Don't think you can deny it, can you?""But we agreed – You said you'd let me go out as a man!""Haven't you said enough about this man nonsense?  I know I've HEARD enough!  Now stop all of this arguing and lets get your makeup on!"
"NO! You can put me in a dress.  I can't stop you.  You can make me wear makeup and I can't stop you.  You can spank me if you want, but if you don't let me got out of these clothes and into pants?  I WILL NOT GO OUT WITH NANCY!"  I was yelling at the top of my lungs.  "I WILL NOT!""This is silly" she said gently. "You look nice. Nancy will appreciate you making yourself pretty for her.  Come on now."I shook my head and stamped my foot so hard, my petticoats flounced prettily. "Don't care!  Not going! Not going to do any favors for Nancy!  You SAID!  Said I could wear pants!  Yes you did!"
She sighed theatrically. "Okay.  Pants it is.  I'd spank you just now, but it would just get your face all swollen.  I'll leave it until you get home.  You can think about it all evening.  It's going to be a doozie!  You won't sit down for a week!""Don't care!" I said, and even I caught the girlishness in my voice.
Then she had the audacity to bring out pink satin pedal pushers.  "Forget it!" I said. "These are pants!  Put them on!"NO! Will not!
Her eyes were ice. "You will regret this. But just so that I know?  What will you agree to wear?""My men's pants. A polo shirt. I don't have any men's underwear, so I'll wear panties.  No Bra. No Garter belt.  My own socks. My own shoes. No makeup.  No perfume.
"My last offer." She said grimly. "Non negotiable. Black tailored pants – women's. White shirt blouse – women's. Bra.  Panties. No Garter belt, but knee high stockings. Women's slip on shoes – low heels. Pale gloss lipstick, nail polish to match.  Take it or leave it."  Then she added  "There is a string attached though. In addition to the spanking I give you?  You also agree to take a . . "   Her mouth twisted in a smile. "Special 'milkshake' from that dispenser that you love so well."
I was waiting for Nancy, as nervous as a cat.  A strange mixture of pride in my stand up to Mistress Candace was liberally mixed with the cowardly fear of what she was going to do in exacting payment. I constantly surveyed my reflection  in any mirror close to me. 
I did look smart, that I had to admit.  I'd fought (and won) another skirmish to be allowed to wear neutral colored undies – but I still wasn't sure if they could be seen under my blouse. I kept twisting and turning to see if I could catch just a glimpse of them, but couldn't tell. Mistress Candace swore blind that my lipstick and nail polish were colorless, but I'd said they were pink. That was another skirmish – but I'd lost that one.
At seven thirty prompt, the doorbell rang. I was standing, nervous as a bride, holding the black beaded evening bag that I'd had to borrow from Rene, to hold my cosmetics and a few dollars – 'Just in case'. Mistress Candace opened the door.
I heard her say. "My Nancy!  How you've grown!  Would never have recognized you!  Come on in!  Your date is waiting – all nervous too, if I'm any judge!"
And Nancy entered gracefully (how else) as a dancer should, stately in an evening skirt of pale lavender and a lovely top of pale white silk, embellished with pleated mauve chiffon, draped around her neckline.  Gorgeous!
She advanced towards me, smiling brightly, her arms widespread.  We met, and kissed gently – both aware of our makeup I think."Hi Billie!" she said enthusiastically.  "If you don't mind?  I think we'd better rush.  I passed the restaurant where I made the reservations and it looks very busy!  We'd better skedaddle!"
Gratefully, I fell in with her suggestion and we hurried out.  All of a sudden, I became aware of my heels making their sharp sounds against the sidewalk as we left the building. Then, from above us, came the voice of Miss Candace."Nancy?  Make sure you have Billie home by ten o'clock, Okay?   He needs his beauty sleep and can't sleep properly without some warm milk before he turns in! (Luckily, I was the only one who caught the inference).
But her prediction as to Nancy's behavior was absolutely accurate!  I'd been concerned that she'd notice my feminine dress elements but, again, it seemed to escape her notice. It DID feel strange having her escort me though.  Gently taking my arm by the elbow and leading me.  Opening doors, ordering my drinks – and my meals. Complimenting me on how love- great I looked!
But I finally reacted to this as well. "Nancy!  Enough!  I'm well aware that it's you that's taking ME out, and I do appreciate all of this attention. But it's  time you let me take over the male role tonight.  I don't want to have you thinking I'm some kind of  - of – sissy!  Now, I'm going to take charge!
She was so impressed. Turned her beautiful eyes on me and apologized profusely for even giving the slightest indication, that she had given me the feminine role to play on the date. I glowed with pride! Bloomed in the light of her admiration!  I felt virile, proud, and – let's face it – MANLY!   
I'm positive that Nancy didn't intentionally get me drunk.  I mean, I know I haven't a head for strong drink.  But what she told me sounded SO exciting!  I was enthralled!
She'd won an internship as a chorus girl in a famous Parisian cabaret – Le Crazy Horse. I knew I'd heard of it, so it had to be famous.  The only problem was, that she was so young – and they demanded that she bring a chaperone!  Someone mature and worldly and she wondered – would I be interested?
I was speechless, but thought that Rene would not allow it, and finally managed to say this, disappointment (or was it the alcohol) slurring my speech.   And anyway?  How could I possibly act as a chaperone amongst a group of young chorus girls – the management would never stand for it, surely not?
Ah, BUT!  The regular girls there were very well paid.  All of them had their own dressers – well, they actually called them 'maids'. It was a sort of 'status' thing with them.  Maybe I could sort of serve – double duty? A sort of Maid/ Chaperone?  This way, she could have the best of both worlds.  She's have the status of her 'step- mother' acting as a chaperone – and have a maid, just like the senior girls at the same time!"
"But Nancy?  I'm a MAN!" I protested."Of COURSE you are!  That is SO obvious! "But you can't have a man being your maid.  That's ridiculous!""But Billie?  I'm positive! With some work, you could have an androgynous look.  Like a very masculine woman?""You don't really think that, do you?" I said."Well, you really are very masculine – but with some training.  Some makeup . .""Oh come on Nancy!  Makeup?"
She turned her beautiful eyes on me. Eyes that were filling with tears.  "Oh Billie!  I was relying on you so much! Are you saying you won't help me?  I mean, I KNOW how difficult it would be for a man to even try to look like a woman, especially you.  But I was hoping you'd see your way to helping me out of this jam.  With you, Mom is sure to let me go.  Without you?  I don't know if there's  anyone she'd trust.  Please think about, please?""I'm not saying I won't Nancy.  I just don't think it would work.  That's all.""But you would if you could?" she said excitedly.
Somehow, the conversation seemed to have got away from me.  Things were definitely getting hazy.  "I guess so"  I said.  She got up from her chair and rushed to my side.  Hugged me ferociously "Thank you!  Thank you!" she said. "I love you!  You're the sweetest man I ever met!"  Then she kissed me – hard.
She was SO excited.  So cute as she babbled on about how she had been to this audition and that audition and who had said this and who had said that.  I felt so attracted to this luscious young naïve  girl that I let her run on and on.  She kept stroking my blouse sleeve and looking deep into my eyes.  I kept thinking that I'd like to drown in hers.  Then she looked at her watch."Oh dear!" I promised Candy I'd have you home before ten." She said."What time is it?" I asked, not wearing a watch."Ten after nine.""Plenty of time!" I said jovially.  Only took us about fifteen minutes to get here.  Plenty of time!""But Billie?  I have an errand to run. Just a quick visit to the beauty shop? My favorite operator made a special appointment for me at nine thirty.""That's okay Nancy.  How long should it take?"No more than a half hour.  But I don't want to get you into trouble with Candy.  I know she can be mean sometimes…""Please Nancy.  Let me worry about Candy.  After all, she's just here to help me with office stuff.""Maybe it would be best if I just called and cancelled the appointment?" she said, disappointment leaking from every pore."Nancy?  Don't you DARE!   I said I'd take care of Candy – and I will!"
Despite this bravado, I gently eased Nancy out of the restaurant, into her car, then sat on pins and needles while she drove us to her beauty shop. I was very pleased to see that we were there almost seven minutes early.  Not so pleased when they spent an inordinate amount of time gossiping.  Stella (the operator) was entranced by Nancy's chance at fame in Paris. THEN Nancy dropped the bombshell that I was to be her maid!
And Stella accepted this as if it were the most natural thing in the world!  Actually demanded that I come and see what little tricks she used on Nancy's hair. I would have ignored her, but she was adamant .  Bloody woman even made me put on a smock while I was 'practicing' under her supervision. She even had the cheek to run her fingers through my hair and sniff at my 'hairdo'.  Offered to 'take me in hand' before we left for Paris. An offer I ignored – but Nancy enthusiastically accepted!
Nancy wasn't going to come in. "It's twenty past ten.  Candy's going to be mad.  I'm sorry.  It's my fault. Please forgive me?"I was dying of fright myself, but thought things wouldn't be so bad if Nancy weren't there to see it. But just my luck, Rene seemed to have got home and came out and demanded that Nancy come in for coffee and a chat.
Nancy and Rene were talking happily as we went in, but Mistress Candace was emanating an arctic chill in my direction. "Where have you been!  I said TEN o'clock!  I distinctly remember – or would you like to argue?"
My resolve faded.  "Miss Candace. It really wasn't my fault.  I DID try.  Honest!""If it wasn't your fault?  Who's fault was it then?  Going to say it was the restaurant?""It was the girl in the beauty shop!" I said, happy that I finally had a scapegoat.
"Oh Billie!" Nancy said.  "That's not fair!  You were so interested In those little things she was doing to my hair.  She'd have been much quicker if you hadn't been there!"And I became Judas.  "But you left everything so LATE!  Didn't tell me about the appointment until the last minute!"
"That's not fair Billie!"  You said it was okay.  You'd handle Candy!"
Rene turned towards me. "Billie?  Are you back to being Billie again Priscilla? I think you are being very stupid and shortsighted. Showing off your masculinity again? Go and put your nice uniform on.  Serve us some drinks!"
I knew I was in trouble with Miss Candace – and knew I was going to be severely disciplined.  What was the sense in Aggravating my wife – husband - as well?
A little while later, In my jade green satin uniform, my petticoats, apron and cap I offered a drink to Miss Nancy.  She hardly looked at me as she took the drink from the tray but "Thank you Priscilla" she said kindly.  Then I heard her say to Rene. "What's this about a milkshake?  I think I'd like to see this."Candace said "Me too! Priscilla? Run and get the harness and your lollipop, would you?  Rene?  Is that cream in the fridge fresh?

EPILOG:Rene shuffled through her mail.  A brightly colored postcard caught her eye.  She flipped it over to read the message on the back:
Dear Momsy:
Everything  GREAT here!  Priscilla's a GODSEND! All the girls are jealous.  She's settled down so much since the operation!  We had a photo shoot scheduled and one of the girls got sick and couldn't come.


Sorry!  This shows a postcard of chorus girls in skimpy costumes - but buggered if I could get it to copy into this blog. Put it down to my lack of technical skills!

 That's me, second left from the center. Guess who that is, third from the right?   (Still has a tendency to be shy, silly girl!).  Some of the girls have learned how MUCH she loves milkshakes too – even though she keeps on denying it when one of us is giving her one!
Love
Nancy
                                                                              The End

And now for a taste of Rosie's 'Bits!

With my husband sitting beside me I waited for my sons to come from their rooms like I told them to. Norman, the older one, arrived first, a nice yellow pleated skirt with a black sweater. Daniel came about a minute later. As he was the youngest one and still growing, I had him wear one of Rachel’s old dresses that she had grown out of. I could easily have him wear Norman’s old clothes, but I opted for Rachel’s for psychological effect. A child’s red knee length party dress, a bit ridiculously looking on a fourteen year old.

“You may sit down if you like,” I said kindly, though smiling inwardly. With the spankings they had just received, it would take a lot more time before they’d willingly let their backsides carry the weight of their, albeit slim bodies.

The boys only exchanged glances but remained standing.

“Too soon, huh?” I said.

They remained silent.

“Well, I’m sorry boys, but you brought this upon yourself,” I said, turning to Norman, “Especially you. I thought you were old enough to know better, I thought I didn’t need to spank you anymore, but I guess you proved me wrong.”

“Sorry, mum,” he muttered.

“I’m not finished!” I raised my voice.

The boys twitched with fear.

“Moreover, you both proved me wrong on another thing,” I continued, calmly, “I thought you were trustworthy enough that you deserved the clothing privileges you enjoyed so far, but I guess I was wrong about that too. I expected that you’d behave responsibly if I allowed you to spend more time in boys clothes – to think I allowed you a week at a time. Well, that’s over.”

They didn’t seem too troubled by my words. I had punished them like this before and as school was about to start in two weeks, they thought their penalty quite endurable.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said, “I’ll have to let you wear boys’ clothes to school, right?”

Even though they were being punished, they just couldn’t hide their smug little smirks.

“Well guess again, boys,” I said, “You’ll be joining Rachel at the boarding school.”

That did the trick. Their eyes widened in horror – Daniel was so shocked he even forgot to close his mouth!

“But, but, but mum,” Norman stuttered, “Please, anything but that. We’ll be good, we promise!”

“I know you will be,” I said, “The teachers at Bowland’s will make bloody sure of it.”

I looked each of them straight in the eyes. Norman dropped his eyes on the floor, Daniel started crying silently.

“I’m sorry, but we’ve been through this a million times. Boys clothes are a privilege you have to earn and respect, yet this summer you did nothing but abuse it.”

Even Norman started to cry.

“You know, I wish it didn’t have to come to this, but it’s your own fault, boys,” I said, “The decision is final. You may just as well stop crying.”

“But mummy,” Daniel stammered and burst in tears again.

“You’re going to Bowland’s and that’s final,” I repeated, “The both of you. Now go back to your rooms.”

After they had scurried away, I turned to my husband.

“You think we were too strict on them?” I asked.

“The school will do them good,” he said, “But did you have to spank them so hard?”
I smiled and embraced him.

“You know what the best part is?” I asked.

I felt him stiffen as I reached under his skirt.

“My hand’s not tired yet,” I said.

25

With a sullen expression, Dora, my mother in law, dragged my husband into the room. She had dressed him in a black knee length pencil skirt and a shiny purple long sleeved blouse. He wore purple pumps with a four inch heel, his legs were encased in purple hued nylons that matched his blouse. It was quite a pretty ensemble, actually. The collar of his blouse extended down his front all the way below the waistline and was clipped against the blouse with a thin patent black belt. His face was tastefully made up and his once manly eyebrows were now just two thin arcs above his eyes. His hair, although hardly long enough, was cut and styled in feminine manner. Even his nails were shining with a clear coat of polish.

“Dora,” I smiled, puzzled by my husband’s new outlook, “What’s the meaning of this? Weren’t you just saying how I don’t respect Jeremy enough as a man?”

“Yes,” she replied, hardly curbing her anger, “And since you refuse to listen to me, I had to turn to more drastic methods.”

“And you do this by dressing your son as a woman?” I asked.

“This is how you’ve been treating him,” she hissed, “As a wife. And this is what a wife looks like.”

“Well, Dora, don’t you think you’re over reacting?” I said, “Putting him in skirts because he does most of the chores in our house?”

“If you want him out of skirts, you’ll have to start treating him like you should,” she replied, “As long as I have any say on the matter, this is what he will look like until you start paying him respect a husband should get.”

”Well, Dora, I must say, I’m shocked,” I choked.

“Think about it,” she said, “That’s how it is.”

I walked up to my feminized husband.

“Doesn’t it feel this strange, that you’re finally taller than me,” I said, pointing to his high heeled shoes, “Or is that how it should be? After all, most husbands are taller than their wives.”

He blushed at my remark and twitched in fright as I touched the silky material of his blouse.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to hurt you,” I said soothingly, then turned to his mother again.

“These clothes, you didn’t buy them just for this occasion?” I asked, further examining his blouse.

“They’re mine,” she dryly replied.

“Well, it figures. The blouse is a bit big at the shoulders, not to mention the bust,” I said, “You do have good taste, Dora.”

“Thank you,” she said, not all sarcastically.

I turned to Jeremy again.

“What do you think, honey?” I said, “Should I start treating you like a husband? Like a man?”

“If you want me looking like one,” he almost whispered and looked away.

“Is that what you’re saying?” I continued, “That I shouldn’t make you do the housework? That I should let you go to work again?”

He remained quiet. I didn’t know how much he had complained to his mother about how I’ve been treating him and I supposed he’d be embarrassed no end if she found out something new.

“Should I let you be on top while we’re having sex?” I went on, looking more at Dora than at him. It was obvious what she heard didn’t please her.

“Maybe I should even stop spanking you?” I said teasingly, “After all, what kind of a husband gets spanked by his wife?”

Dora’s lips were reduced to a pair of thin white lines.

“Unless you want him to look like that,” she almost barked.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not perfectly happy about how he looks,” I said.

Dora’s face showed a faint sign of triumph. I smiled inwardly.

“I mean, you did a great job on him, I want you to know I appreciate it very much,” I said, “But there’s still room for improvement. His hips are kind of narrow – I think his figure would benefit from a corset. You know, a narrower waist will optically widen the hips. His hair is another subject, but we can’t do anything about that until it grows out a bit. And the bust – we have to do something about that.”

I could hardly keep myself from bursting out laughing as Jeremy looked at his mother in horror.

“Though the main thing, Dora, are the clothes,” I said.

“Yes?” she said, not altogether as angry as I expected.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I said, “They’re your clothes.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re very nice clothes,” I said, “But Dora, you have maids at home, you don’t do the housework – your work is in the office. You’re a CEO, for crying out loud. Look at him. Does he look like a housewife to you?”

“Come to think of it,” she replied, “The outfit does look a bit on the professional side.”

“It will have to do for the time being,” I said.

“I suppose so,” she replied.

“Let me get this straight,” Jeremy finally spoke up, though with a trembling voice, “You don’t mind me looking like that?”

”Like a woman, you mean?” I replied, “Not really.”

”But mummy,” he whined, “You said this would work for sure.”

“Guess I was wrong,” she replied, “She called our bluff.”

Looking as if he was going to burst in tears any second, he turned towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

“I’m going to change out of this stupid clothes,” he said remorsefully, “I never should have listened to you in the first place.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said sternly.

Her commanding voice made him freeze in his tracks.

“I’m sorry if my plan backfired, but I will not go back on my word,” she stated, “As long as you haven’t regained the status of a husband in your house, I’m not going to let you wear men’s clothes.”

“But… But I…” he stammered.

“I don’t want to hear another objection from you,” she said, “I’ve done as much as I could to help you. I’m afraid it’s up to you now.”

He hung his head, then as if a spark had lit up in his eyes, he spoke again.

“So you mean, if I get Susan to treat me properly, I can stop dressing in women’s clothes?” he said.

His mother chuckled.

“In all honesty, in retrospect, I think Susan has been treating you properly all along,” she said, “But yes, if you convince her to let you get a job, I’ll allow you to wear men’s clothes again.”

He turned to me.

“Susan, please?” he said, “Will you please let me go back to work?”

“Maybe some day, honey,” I said, then turned back to his mother, “But until then? Would you mind very much taking him shopping tomorrow? He can’t go on wearing your clothes in the mean time.”

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