Chapter 3: the apron

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I needed an apron. Mum had got rid of Dad's aprons along with the rest of his clothes: "It made me sad to look at them" - fair enough. I could ask Mum to buy me one, they shouldn't cost much, but then again, I knew that money was tight. I had an idea.

About a year before his own death, my Dad's younger sister (my Aunt Edie) had died. I hardly remember her at all. She was an unmarried and unhealthy woman. Apparently, she was always sick with something, so her death wasn't a great surprise. Dad was the last of his family and her heir. After all the debts were paid, Dad received the grand sum of $2000 and two trunks of her clothes and personal items. We still had the two trunks in the back of the garage. I went fossicking.

"Okay," I announced to my family in the most severe tone I could muster as I held up the items I'd recovered from the trunks - two rather feminine aprons, "to save money, I'm prepared to wear these when I'm cooking . . . BUT that is provided that nobody makes fun of me."

Promises all round.

After I put one on, Jason couldn't help himself, "You could be my little sister."

"Jason!" I admonished sternly.

"I'm not making fun of you, Robbie, it's just that . . ." he petered out.

Mum and Brett were glaring at him.

When we had finished eating, Jason came over to me at the sink. "Robbie, I'm sorry; I didn't mean anything bad. You see, I've always liked the idea of having a little sister and . . .you're the closest thing I've got to that."

He was so obviously sincere that I smiled and said, "Okay, Jase, you're forgiven."

He gave me a hug and said, "Thanks, sis."

I pulled back, "Sis?"

"Do you mind? Just when you're wearing your apron."

"Jason, you're hopeless," I declared with a twisted smile, "get out of here."

He went away happy.

Brett soon picked up on the 'sis' and then it spread beyond the kitchen. I really didn't mind. I loved my brothers and I felt that the 'sis' was an expression of their affection for me.

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