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Between the Sheets

By D'Lover

Most of my friends know by now that my relocation to Phoenix was to take care of my mother who was recently diagnosed with cancer of the lung and colon. Having just told her in October of my desires to crossdress, moving back into her home has proved to be very interesting. She took my original disclosure well and had few questions about it other than wondering why I could not give it up. I don't have an answer for her. In the meantime I have just accepted the knowledge that my ability to express an expanded gender is part of what makes me the person I am. She has accepted that but would prefer that I wasn't so blessed. Well what can I say other than "Mom, I am what I am!" It's the expanded gender that I tend to think makes me the loving caring person that I am. Part of that loving caring person lead me to this latest adventure ...

It was a typical Saturday at home. I was vacuuming up the house while I was taking care of Mom for the day. The hose was on, watering the grass, The TV was on so that she could watch the news, The dishwasher was running on heavy wash to clean up the mornings dishes covered with fried eggs and bacon grease, The microwave was reheating my morning coffee, and I had just put another load of laundry into the washing machine. It's a wonder that the electrical circuit breakers did not blow. I think the only thing not running was a hair dryer or the toaster.

As the morning progressed Mom said she was tired and was going to go back to bed. Mom can only stay up for about two hours at a time so since she had been up for three I helped her out of her chair and down the hallway toward her bedroom. She is not an invalid but is now scared to death about falling so she appreciates my walking with her just in case. She made her stop by the bathroom and then on to bed. Nothing unusual. I kissed her goodnight and told her "Since your going to take a nap I'll run to the hardware store for a new kitchen faucet because your old one is leaking" I had been wanting a hand sprayer type so I could wash her hair in the sink. She told me to take my time, she wasn't going any place.

Being a typical Saturday the hardware store was jammed packed and my short run out turned into a three hour affair. Upon returning I find my mother up setting in her chair with a fresh cup of coffee and a piece of toast. To my surprise she say's "I couldn't sleep so I finished the laundry you started just before you left."

Oh Not! I thought to myself. Just what I did not want.

I had waited until she went down for her nap before I put my last load of underwear in the washing machine. Yep, you guessed it. It was all of my nice white lacy things.

A quick glance into the kitchen confirmed my worst fear. She had the top of the machine up and all of my "stuff" nicely folded in the laundry basket waiting for me to take out to the clothesline to dry. How do I handle this one?

I hadn't dressed or anything since I had moved in with her and the subject of crossdressing is not a topic that is brought up. Yes, she knew about my dressing and she has said she had no problems with it, yet with all the other problems going on I hadn't wanted to burden her with my gender issues. Now what do I do? What could I do? I turned back to the living room and said "Mom you didn't have to do that" and her response was "I was glad to help you out".

Well being the "good kid" I took the basket outside to hang it up the clothing. You must remember this mother is a neat fanatic and she just didn't dump the clothes from the washer into the basket like I would, she very neatly folded my sheets first and put them on the bottom of the basket. Then she laid out my jockey shorts nice and flat. On top of the shorts she laid out my tee shirts, then my lacy camisoles, and then my silk bikinis. On top of it all were her sheets. Everything nicely folded and of course arranged by her loving fingers. So there laid "My stuff', between the sheets. Well I guess she know for sure now that I liked lacy underwear.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and took up a seat next to her. We talked about nothing important for about ten minutes while I was thinking about asking her what she thought about my stuff. Finally I decided to ask her directly about what she thought when she folded my clothes. "Mom, what did you think about when you folded my clothes?"

Her response blew me away. "I was wondering what we were going to have for dinner. Why?"

Why I ask myself, because I had worried about it since I came home. Not wanting to let her know my anxieties, in my around about way I said. "Because it was all laid out and already folded and it was still wet. Why did you do that?" Her response was "It's just a habit. When we lived in Wyoming if you didn't fold them in the basket, by the time you got them to the line they were frozen and unless they were flat you'd never get them untangled and hung up." "Oh" I said.

I guess she really does not see my crossdressing as a big deal. Not wanting to give up on asking her about my lacy things I said, "What did you think about my lacy things?" "Well if you're going to be wearing such stuff you should really wash it separately or by hand because the beach will just ruin it quickly."

Enough is enough! Here I was, worried about what she would say or think when she was first confronted with my lacy things and her only concern was that I take better care of my stuff. That's nothing new, she's been trying to do that for 40 something years and I still don't have it right.

I decided that I had begged the gender question long enough so I changed the topic to "what funny things did she remember about me when I was growing up?" The list was long and we had a very good time remembering the good times.

If you haven't taken the time to sit with your mom or dad over a cup of coffee and talked about the good times, do it now while you can. Time may be shorter than you think. I am very thankful I did.

Thanks to everyone for your cards, calls and letters. It is nice to hear you have my mom in your prayers.

Hugs,
D'



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