At Aunt Greta's 5 — School ’n Stuff

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At Aunt Greta’s–
School ’n Stuff
by Gabi

Chapter 5 of a Continuing Saga

FOLLOWING THE SOMEWHAT shattering discovery that after my latest sojourn back to 1944 I had returned with a girl’s body, Mummy and Auntie Greta had taken me shopping for girl clothes, and Mummy used her mobile to ’phone Dr MacNeish who said that luckily she had had a cancellation and could see me at five o’clock that afternoon.

As soon as we arrived home Aunt Greta headed for the kitchen to fix some lunch, while I rushed upstairs to my room closely followed by Mummy. Between us we unpacked my new ‘wardrobe’ from the numerous carrier bags and laid them out on my bed so we could see what I had before we started putting things away. I had not realised how much we had bought and I am sure that Mummy’s credit card was feeling very weary after our spree.

‘Well, Poppet,’ Mummy said, drawing me to here and giving me a squeezy hug, ‘I think we did rather well, don’t you?’

‘Yes, and wasn’t it fun? I always thought clothes shopping was really-really BORing.’

‘That’s because you were a boy; shopping for girl-clothes is always fun. Are you pleased with what we have bought?’

‘Rath-ERRR, but I’m a bit worried that you had to spend such a lot of money. And we bought four pairs of shoes! Why did I need so many?’

‘A girl can never have enough shoes, so don’t worry your pretty head about that, darling. I really enjoyed myself, after all I’ve never had a daughter until today so I suppose I was making up for a lot of lost time. Remember you’ve often had to put up with hand-me-downs from Tim, so you’ve not really had many new clothes of your very own.’ She gave me another squeeze and I hugged her back. ‘What do you want to wear this afternoon? I’m sure now you’ve got your own things you won’t want to stay in Kate’s skirt.’

‘I rather enjoy wearing it, but I’d prefer to wear a pair of my own knickers now I’ve got some. These old white ones Auntie Greta wore as a girl are a bit old-fashioned and don’t fit very well.’ I picked up one of the packs of knickers, tore the plastic bag and took out a pair of pink ones with pale yellow and blue flowers on them.

‘Pink ones, Sweetheart? I thought blue was your favourite colour.’

‘Well, not really, but when I was a boy I could hardly admit that pink was my fave colour, could I?’

‘Well, you could have, but you’d have got teased about it. Now, let’s get your new things put away.’ It took us about five minutes to tidy everything away in my chest of drawers and wardrobe.

‘I’m going downstairs to phone the school and tell Miss Morgan she has an unexpected new girl next week,’ said Mummy as she closed the doors of my wardrobe, ‘and I’ll be able find out what you will need in the way of uniform.’

‘Okay, Mummy. I’ll be downstairs as soon as I’ve changed and been to the loo.’

* * *

I was downstairs again about five minutes later wearing my new undies which were very soft and really comfy. It still felt strange having to sit down to wee, and I found that a few dribbles tended to migrate round to my ‘back-bottom’. However, Mummy had explained to me about wiping myself properly every time. Being a girl was certainly different. Before, a few shakes of ‘Percy’ was all that was needed.

Mummy was still on the ’phone, so I went to the kitchen to see how Auntie G was getting on with the lunch preparations.

‘Anything I can do to help, Auntie Greta?’ I asked.

‘That’s kind of you, Gaby darling. If you could get a lettuce, some tomatoes and spring onions from the fridge and wash them, you can make a salad. I’ve already sliced up some cucumber.’

I noticed that she had opened a large tin of tuna, had sliced up some cooked potatoes and two hard-boiled eggs and there was a jar of olives on the counter. ‘Are we having my fave salad?’ I asked.

‘Now I wonder what that might be, honey?’ she replied, her eyes twinkling.

‘Salade Niçoise?’

‘I’d never have guessed,’ she teased. ‘When you’ve washed the tomatoes and spring onions, would you pop out to the greenhouse and pick me some basil, please.’

‘How much?’

‘About three stalks should be ample.’

I went out the back door and crossed the garden to the greenhouse. I loved the smell inside, a mixture of tomato plants and herbs. I found the tray with the basil plants and carefully picked three stalks and returned to the kitchen. Auntie was rubbing the wooden salad bowl with a clove of garlic–something else I adored, although I suppose I would have to be careful from now on in case I got a boyfriend who wanted to kiss me! Eeeewww!

‘Will you wash rinse it under the tap please?’ she asked when she saw the basil in my hand. I did so and shook it dry over the sink and put it on the counter by the tomatoes and spring onions.

‘Did you know the oven was on, Auntie,’ I asked.

‘Yes, Gaby. I thought we’d all enjoy garlic bread with our Salade Niçoise.’

‘Oooh, yummy, how scrummy,’ I replied enthusiastically. ‘I adore garlic bread.’

‘Is there anything you don’t like to eat?’ Auntie asked, laughing.

‘Loadsa things–mostly at school; things like tapioca pudding, yukk! School boiled cabbage, double yukk! School macaroni cheese, triple yukk! The cabbage is sooooo revolting, it lies there on the plate, drowning in a pool of smelly cabbage-water and pleading with sad eyes to be put out of its misery. There should be a RSPCSC.’

‘What’s that, Gabs?’

‘The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to School Cabbage! Mind you the cauliflower is equally revolting, and the spuds get over-boiled too.’

‘Things haven’t changed since my day then,’ giggled Auntie. ‘But there was an excuse during the war that food was on the ration so there wasn’t much choice. The gravy they gave us used to make me feel sick.’

‘Eeeewww! Poor you,’ I sympathised.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Mummy coming into the kitchen.

‘Auntie said that the gravy they got at school during the war used to make her feel sick.’

‘The Brussels sprouts were awful, too,’ said Auntie. ‘They were sooo revolting I used to put them in the hanky pocket in my knickers and flush them down the loo after lunch.’

‘What? Your knickers?’ I giggled.

‘No, you silly girl,’ laughed Mummy. ‘She meant the Brussels. Ours were pretty awful too, but we didn’t have pockets on our knickers, so I had to use my hanky, hoping I wouldn’t have to blow my nose later.’

‘Eeeewww! Mummy! Yukk!’

‘Gaby darling, you sound just like a girl now. It’s almost as if you’d always been one.’

‘But I HAVE always been one, but inside. I’m now one on the outside too. Isn’t it sooooper?’

Mummy grinned and gave me a hug. ‘If you say so, sweetheart. I must say I always wished you had been a girl.’

While we had been comparing school food, Auntie had finished preparing the salad, which she covered with cling film and put in the fridge. Then she put the garlic bread in the oven. ‘If you’d like to lay the dining room table we can eat in fifteen minutes,’ she told us.

Mummy and I went to the dining room. There was already a checked cloth on the table, so I got out the cutlery and started to lay the places.

‘Well, Gabs,’ Mummy said. ‘This is something new for you.’

‘Not really,’ I replied, ‘I’ve been doing it for Auntie ever since I came here.’

‘What, even when you were a boy?’

‘Natch, but then I never thought I was a proper boy like Tim. Did you speak to Miss Morgan?’

‘Yes, she wants to see us both at two-thirty at the school. She sounded rather shocked.’

‘I bet she did,’ I replied with a giggle.

* * *

Lunch was gorgeous. I think I had one too many bits of garlic bread, but I do enjoy it soooo much. The salad was amazing too; I think Salade Niçoise is my absolute fave of all. Auntie makes fab French dressing for it too and there was nothing left the salad bowl by the time Auntie brought us all a chocolate ice-cream for afters. At a quarter past two Mummy and I got into the car for the short trip to the school.

I was feeling a little scared at the prospect of meeting Miss Morgan. I was not scared of her, for she was a really nice lady and a good headmistress, but she had only known me as Gabriel–a boy, and now I was Gaby, or Gabrielle–a girl. I was uncertain how to explain what had happened to me without her thinking I was feeble-starkers-bonkers.

We arrived at the school in a few minutes as it was very close to Auntie’s house. The new term did not start for another four days so the buildings and playground looked deserted, save for some of the teachers’ cars. Mummy parked and we got out. I must say I felt very strange walking into the school I had, up to now, attended as a boy dressed as I was that day.

Mummy looked at me and took a hairbrush from her handbag and gave my hair a brush and said ‘There you are, darling, that makes you look so pretty. Let’s go and see Miss Morgan.’

We entered through the main entrance that as pupils we were not normally allowed to use as it was for staff, parents and visitors only. I took Mummy to Miss Morgan’s study and we knocked on the door.

‘Come!’ came the headmistress’s voice from the other side of the door. Mummy opened it and pushed me in in front of her. Miss Morgan, sitting at her huge desk, looked up and smiled.

‘G-g-g-good afternoon, Miss M-Morgan,’ I stammered. ‘I’m Gaby–I mean–Gabrielle Chambers.’

‘Good afternoon, Gaby,’ she said. ‘I must say you are a very pretty girl.’

‘Thank you, Miss Morgan. This is my mum,’ I replied, turning to look at her.

‘Hullo, Mrs Chambers, I’m so glad you could come so quickly. Please sit down, both of you,’ she replied indicating a sofa. I sat down carefully, remembering to smooth my skirt under my bum. Mummy sat next to me and Miss Morgan came and sat in an armchair opposite us. ‘Now, young lady, tell me what happened to your alter ego?’

‘Err–my what, Miss Morgan?’

‘Your other self–the boy you used to be.’

‘Well, I really don’t know. It all started when Auntie Greta and I were up in her loft searching for something to give as a wedding present and she found this old trunk which contained a lot of her old clothes, including the uniform she wore when she was a pupil here during the war. So we decided to have a dress-up day and pretend that it was 1944 again. Well––’ I then went on to explain what happened with me slipping back in time, becoming Auntie Great as a girl and doing her homework (see Aunt Greta’s Homework http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/4837/aunt-gretas-homework ).

Miss Morgan let me tell the story without interrupting me. ‘When did you discover you had changed sex?’ she asked when I finally stopped talking.

‘Oh that was on another occasion when I slipped back in the middle of the night when there was an air-raid and we had to go out the shelter at the end of the garden. It was a doodlebug that fell quite close and I was really really scared. Mummy–well, Auntie Greta’s mummy actually–told me to put on two pairs of knickers coz it would be cold in the shelter. I woke up next morning still wearing them under my nightie, and when I went to the loo I discovered I hadn’t changed back into a boy.’

‘And she’s been a girl ever since,’ added Mummy.

‘I find it very difficult to believe,’ said Miss Morgan. ‘Are you sure she’s a girl?’

‘Absolutely positive,’ Mummy replied firmly. ‘I’m a registered gynaecological nurse and midwife and I have given her a thorough examination.’

‘It’s not that I don’t believe you,’ said Miss Morgan, ‘but if I was to call our school nurse, would you let her check Gabrielle too; just so I have a second opinion?’ She looked at me.

‘Nurse Parry’s nice,’ I told Mummy. ‘I don’t mind her checking me so long as you’re there too.’

‘Actually we’ve got an appointment to see our doctor at five o’clock,’ Mummy said, ‘and as Gaby doesn’t mind Nurse examining her, I have no objection.’

Miss Morgan picked up her ’phone, pressed a couple of buttons and waited for an answer. ‘Hullo? Is that you, Cathy–? If I bring one of our pupils round, would you have a look at her for me?… Excellent, we’ll be there directly. Her name–?…Oh, Gabrielle Chambers–and her mother’s here too. We’ll be with you in a couple shakes.’

When we arrived at Nurse’s room she looked at me and did a double take. ‘Cathy, this is Mrs Chambers and her daughter.’

‘How d’you do, Mrs Chambers,’ said Nurse Parry. ‘I thought you had two sons–’

‘So did I until a few hours ago, but Gaby’s undergone some sort of extraordinary transformation. I’m a gynae-nurse and I couldn’t believe it until I examined her myself.’

‘Well, Gaby,’ Nurse said, ‘if you slip behind the curtains and undress down to your undies, your Mum and I will be with you in a minute.’

‘Yes, Nurse.’ I could feel myself blushing, but I supposed I would have to do this again when we went to see Dr MacNeish. I took off my skirt and top and sat on the bed awaiting my fate.

* * *

Nurse’s examination was similar to Mummy’s, but not so thorough–I’m glad to say. As they left me to get dressed again they were talking in low voices, but I could not make out what they were saying.

Nurse accompanied us back to the Head’s study, where we were asked to sit on the sofa again. ‘Well, Cathy, what do you have to report?’

‘Apart from the fact that Gaby is definitely anatomically a girl, nothing at all, except that she shows normal signs of the onset of puberty that I would expect with a girl of her age.’

‘May I ask a question, Miss Morgan?’ I asked.

‘Of course you may, dear,’ came the reply.

‘It’s just that everyone in the school will remember that I was a boy, so how do we explain that during the holidays I seem to have changed into a girl?’

‘Maybe we could say you always were a girl, but very tomboyish and wanted people to treat you like a boy,’ suggested Mummy.

‘Oh, you mean like George in the Famous Five?‘ I added.

‘If you like. Did anyone ever see you naked?’

‘No, and the boy’s loo has cubicles rather than stand-up stalls,’ I replied. ‘So I always shut the door and went in private.’

‘Well, I should think that if we say you always were a girl,’ Mummy suggested, ‘but during the holidays you started to develop female characteristics–breasts and wider hips, for example–so you could no longer get away with masquerading as a boy.

‘That should explain things simply enough,’ agreed Nurse Parry, ‘don’t you think so, Headmistress?’

‘Yes, I think that would be the answer. Do you think your doctor would be prepared to support that, Mrs Chambers?’

‘I’ll ask her when we see her this afternoon,’ Mummy replied. ‘I wonder if we can do anything about Gabriel’s birth certificate? After all we know that she is undoubtedly female, and that a mistake was made at birth. All we need now is a girl’s uniform list.’

Miss Morgan opened one of the drawers of her desk. ‘Here you are, Gaby,’ she said, holding it out for me and giving me a friendly smile. ‘We shall look forward to welcoming our newest girl pupil next week. By the way, how is Timothy? I hope he hasn’t suddenly changed sex as well.’

‘Ah, that reminds me,’ said Mummy, ‘Tim won’t be coming back to school straight away. He picked up Scarlet fever while at scout camp.’ A gasp escaped from Miss Morgan. ‘Don’t worry, Gaby’s spent the whole holidays with her Aunt Greta so she’s not in quarantine.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ sighed Miss Morgan.

* * *

It was a quarter to four as we left the school. Mummy drove straight home and Auntie Greta made us a cup of tea and a jam sandwich.

‘So how did it go, then?’ Auntie asked as we settled down to our tea. ‘Are there going to be any problems?’

‘No, Miss Morgan was very nice about it,’ I replied, ‘but I think she was a bit surprised.’

‘Well, sweetheart, it’s been a bit of a shock to all of us,’ Mummy said. ‘I should think she was flabbergasted!’

‘Her flabber was never so gasted,’ Auntie added, which made us all laugh. So what else happened?’

‘She was examined by the school nurse,’ said Mummy, ‘and then we had a chat and we got a copy of the girl’s uniform list. We can shop for them on Monday or Tuesday next week.’

We set out for Dr MacNeish’s surgery as soon as we had finished our tea and been to the loo. We didn’t have far to go since her practice was now situated in the new purpose-built Health Centre about two miles away. Being a new building there was more than enough car parking space, unlike the old one which was really cramped. Once inside, we reported to the receptionist and sat down in the waiting area until Dr MacNeish called us.

We had only been waiting for about ten minutes when we heard ‘Gaby Chambers to go to Dr MacNeish in Room Three…’ announced over the loudspeaker system. Amazingly they had even called me by the right name!

Mummy and I stood up and walked down the corridor to Room Three. I knocked at the door and heard, ‘Come in,’ called from inside. As I opened the door, Dr MacNeish stood up and smiled as I offered my hand to be shaken. She took it in both hands and gave it a really friendly squeeze. ‘Well, young lady, what’s all this I hear about your defying the laws of medical science?’

‘Errmm–’ I said, suddenly rendered speechless, until I was able to stammer, ‘I s-s-seem to h-have ch-ch-changed s-s-s-sex.’

‘So your mum has told me, and I have to believe her because being a nurse she knows about such things. So, how about telling me what happened.’

‘Well, it all started when Auntie Greta and I were up in her loft and…’ I related the whole story to date while she listened with a look of amazement on her face.

‘Well, that’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. Now, if you’ll just pop behind the curtains and undress, I’ll be with you in a minute.’

‘Undress completely?’ I asked.

‘Just to your under-things for now. Then sit on the bed.’

It did not take me long to get down to my bra and pants, and I had just sat on the bed, which was rather high, when the doctor and Mummy came into the cubicle.

The doctor had her stethoscope hanging round her neck and she started by listening to my chest. The end of the stethoscope felt cold on my chest. ‘I wish you’d warmed it up a bit,’ I said.

She looked up at my face and must have noticed I was grinning. ‘I’ll have to get a centrally heated one for you next time,’ she joked. ‘Will you take off your bra, please?’

I started fumbling round the back to unhook the fastening. ‘Sorry,’ I said, feeling my cheeks getting hot. ‘I’ve not had much practice at this yet. I’ve never had one before.’ However then I succeeded and slipped it off my shoulders.

‘You certainly need one,’ she said. ‘Lie back while I check how they’re developing.’ I did so and she gently prodded and poked me; when she touched my nipples they tingled and stood up. It was a rather pleasant sensation, and a completely new one to me. ‘Good,’ she said. They are developing nicely. Now will you slip your panties off please.’

When she had completed her examination she took some blood. I had to avert my eyes while she stuck this needle-thingy in my arm and extracted a huge amount of blood from me and then told me to get dressed again. She and Mummy left me to it, and I joined them in the main part of her office a couple of minutes later.

‘Well, Gaby, there can be no doubt that you are a girl through and through,’ Doctor MacNeish said. ‘Tell me, how do you feel about it?’

‘Actually I am rather pleased, as I always had a deep-down feeling that I should have been a girl; like I was a girl inside, but I never had the courage to admit it.’

‘She admitted as much to me on the ’phone the day before yesterday,’ Mummy explained. ‘That was the first inkling I had of it. Do you think it would be a good idea for her to see a psychiatrist?’

‘I do. I’ll make an appointment for her with Dr Knutter. She specialises in gender identity problems, although I think we can say that Gaby is pretty sure what she is now.’

‘Definitely a girl,’ I said with a huge cheesy grin.

‘And proud of it by the sound and look of you,’ replied the doctor.

‘Is Dr Knutter a nut doctor?’ I asked with a giggle.

‘Her name starts with a K–as in knights of old.’

‘Still, it’s a really kewl name for a psychiatrist,’ I said.

* * *

We said goodbye to the doctor, who wanted to see me again in two weeks time, and headed back to Auntie G’s house where Mummy dropped me off so she could go and relieve Mrs Tate who was looking after plaguey Tim. ‘I’ll give you a ring a before you go to bed tonight,’ she said, kissing me before she drove off.

Auntie was listening the six o’clock news when I went into the house. ‘Is that you, Gaby,’ she called.

‘Yes, Auntie,’ I replied and joined her in the sitting room. ‘Turn off the wireless and tell me how it all went.’

‘My goodness,’ she said as I finished telling her what happened at school and the doctor’s, ‘They certainly put you through it. I should think you are quite tired with all the prodding and poling.’

‘Yes, I’ll be quite glad to get to bed tonight,’ I admitted. “I guess I’ll sleep well tonight–if I don’t get dragged out to the air-raid shelter tonight.’

My supper was baked beans on toast and after reading my book for a short time, Auntie brought me a glass of milk and two chocky biscuits, and after that I was soon asleep.

* * *

I waked in the morning with a slight tummy ache; I took it to be a hunger pang that would go when I had had breakfast, so I thought no more about it. Then Auntie’s mother came in and told me to get up as it was a school day. On the chair beside my bed was my 1944 school uniform, so I had slipped back to being Greta again. All my nice new girl clothes had been left behind in my own time.

I struggled out of bed and headed to the loo. I soon discovered that I was still a girl, so after a wee and a poo I went to the bathroom for a wash. As I returned to my room I heard “Mummy” call from downstairs. ‘I’ve put out clean linings and a clean blouse for you, darling. Get dressed as quick as you can; I'll come up to plait your hair and I’ve got a treat for your brekky today, a boiled egg; Mrs Rea next door gave me one for you yesterday, you lucky girl.”

I remember Auntie telling me that the egg ration was one per week, and often you were lucky if you got that, so an extra one from Mrs Rea next door, who kept some hens in her back garden, was a real treat so I started dressing straight away. The clothes on the chair did not include a bra, but there was a vest, so I put that on, then the white linings and the baggy navy-blue knickers, which had tight elastic round the legs. I slipped on my blouse and did it up and tied my tie. Then came the gym-tunic with the ghastly kermit-green girdle round the waist and finally white ankle socks and black lace-up shoes. I was brushing my hair when Mummy came in and plaited it in two pigtails with Kermit green ribbons at the end of each one.

We breakfasted at the kitchen table. ‘Lovely egg, Mummy,’ I said, remembering how Auntie had told me what a treat they were in wartime. I had toast soldiers spread with Marmite to dip in my egg–just like I did in my own time–and two cups of weak tea. I enjoyed it in spite of my tummy ache which didn't seem quite as bad.

‘That was a lovely treat, Mummy,’ I said. ‘Thank Mrs Rea for me, won’t you.’

‘I will, darling. Now, put on your blazer–I don’t think you will need a raincoat today–and then you’ll be ready for Judy and Susan when they come past.’ (So Auntie walked to school every day with Judy Wilson and Susan Brown whom I had met briefly when they came to ask me about homework on a previous sojourn to 1944.) ‘Are all your books in your satchel?’

‘Yes, Mummy,’ I replied, picking up said satchel and hoping that the real Greta had put them in after she did her prep last evening. I soon saw the shadow of the other girls through the stained glass of the front door. ‘They’re here, Mummy. I’m of now,’ I called, opening the front door.

‘Let me see you, Greta,’ Mummy called, coming into the hall. ‘Where’s your hat?’

Hat! Hat? Then I remembered Auntie telling me about it. ‘Oops, I am a silly girl,’ I said as Mummy put the hat on my head and pinged the elastic under my chin. ‘Ouch! That hurt!’

‘It might remind you not to forget it next time. One of these days you’ll forget your head.’

‘Yes, Mummy,’ I sighed as Judy and Susan were giggling together on the doorstep.

‘Have a lovely day, darling,’ Mummy called out as we walked down to the gate.

‘I will,’ I called back over my shoulder, suddenly realising that I was walking to school holding hands with a girl I had only met once who thought I was my Aunt.

‘I’m jolly glad we didn’t have an air-raid last night,’ Judy said. ‘Wattie’s always in such a mingey mood when she’s had a disturbed night.’

‘She’s not the only one,’ added Susan, ‘Ma’s like a bear with a sore head next day when we have to traipse out to the shelter in the dark, and last time she caught her nightie on a rose bush and tore it. She tried to blame ME for it, the mean cow.’

Judy and I giggled, but I got the idea that Susan was not very fond of her Ma

‘Ooh, goody,’ said Judy suddenly. ‘We’ve got gym first lesson after prayers. Isn’t that top hole?’

‘Super,’ I said without enthusiasm. I had a tummy ache and Auntie had told me that when she was at school all the girls had to do it wearing just their vests and knickers!


 © 2008 Gabi Bunton All rights reserved

To be continued…

Comments gratefully received

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Comments

Ah! what a treat

Ah! what a treat - a new episode of Aunt Greta and Gaby. It's great to see Gaby is adapting so well and I love the contrast of the current day with the war time references.

If only it could happen!

Such a nice story, Gaby! You've even thrown in a Knutter. It's great stuff. Please don't let the poor thing wake up as boy!

Kaleigh

I Have A Question

Since Gaby is now a girl, will she ever stay in the past or just visit as she is doing now?
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Very, very interesting and

Very, very interesting and loving story. I hope that Gaby will remain a girl and that her Mother has her wishes granted by having forever the daughter she always wanted.
J-Lynn

There is a great atmosphere

There ia a great atmosphere to this story and I know someone who will certainly enjoy it. It's lovely that Gaby is enjoying her new life and I only hope that nothing happens to spoil it for her — like turning back into a boy. Perish the thought!

Thank you for a splendid episode.

Hugs,

Hilary

I'd Been Wondering

joannebarbarella's picture

When we were going to see another episode. Welcome back, Gaby and Auntie Greta,
Joanne

Top Hole

I love this story. And the contrast between wartime and present day make for a great read.

Lucky girl.

Damn, I lost my comment too!

Gaby is quite the lovely girl, Gabi. A very lucky girl.

I was wondering what the girls in 1944 used when they
didn't have ibuprofen? I mean except for a hot water
bottle?

Probably should have given her a day or two to get used
to the idea, Gabs.

Sarah Lynn