Brett's sixteenth birthday was on hand and I wanted to make him a special treat. I loved all my family, but I knew that my big brother was my favourite.
It was my habit before I started cooking, to brush my hair (now long because haircuts cost money) and to tie it up and back. I didn't realise how much of a girl-style I was unknowingly achieving.
I was charging across the living room on my way to my domain (the kitchen) when I encountered Brett. "You look nice," he remarked.
Compliments from Brett were gold to me. I was wearing a full 'Aunt Edie outfit': tight three-quarter pants, a pink (pink, what was I thinking?) embroidered top and sandals with a small heel.
I was in a good mood, so I played up to him, spinning around and shaking my shoulders and hips. "What's this, big bro, do you think your little sister's hot?"
"I do, I do," he responded with a broad grin.
I continued my way into the kitchen swaying my backside extravagantly.
"Wow, mega hot," he laughed heading for his room.
My mood was now totally great.
On Tuesday night, I finished making Brett's birthday treat - an elaborate oven bake. I covered it over and put it in the bottom of the fridge with a sign on it 'Do not touch under pain of death or worse'. Brett's birthday was tomorrow and I was certain he would love my dish.
YOU ARE READING
Robin
Historia CortaA transgender journey through family tragedy and difficulty, but there is some humour and, of course, a happy ending.
