Maybe I could go over there in time for one of those primo Henderson breakfasts that I so enjoyed.It would be my first time, trying to relate to Tess'... parents while she was off somewhere else. Might be awkward. That's OK, I'd just concentrate on Grandma Hoop. We were buds.I left the RV for a cleanup -- inside and out -- by the park staff, and drove to the Henderson house (I've gotta quit calling it 'Henderson Manor') in the little Scion. I'd called ahead, and, sure enough, breakfast was on the. Itwas no longer about what I was doing, but what was being done to me.These are classic symptoms of depression or the blues.As I sat there waiting for the kettle to boil, Sarah came into thekitchen."John, you know that when you dress as a girl, you need to have a newname. We can't go round calling you John. I think it would beempowering for you, on becoming a girl, to choose your own name."A normal guy, determined to hold on to his masculinity, who found himselfdressed like me might have. Her little body was trembling, strapped on my favorite apparel. She was riding the wooden horse. Sweat was all over her skin, as tears were spread on her cheeks and saliva ran down her chin. The wooden edge taking those puffy and perfect outer lips apart, sinking in her womanhood and making her suffer, making her feel her entire weight deposited on that single spot, on that special and sensitive place.I couldn't hold myself too long. I had craved to see this scene since I brought her here and. " she cut me off mid sentence, with a not so pleasant frown, " and since when do you take short cuts through my class?". I didn't know what to say other than sorry, but somehow I knew that wouldn't suffice."Whats your name boy? Isn't it Matthew?" she asked me. "Yes ma'am, Matt Anderson" I replied, waiting for another bombardment of questions and accusations. Instead she simply opened her black diary and wrote my name down. "Well Mr.Anderson, I will be seeing you on friday for a 2 hour.