Teen Nanny Chapters 7 and 8

By Red Rover

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Teen Nanny - Chapter 7

Main Characters:
The Stevens Family: Mother, Margie (35), nurse at a local hospital, widowed 4 years ago. Son, Kevin (15), Daughter Nicki (12)

The Meyers Family: Father Michael (45) Professor of Psychology at UW. Mother: Christine (43) pediatrician at Swedish Hospital in Seattle. Sons: Mark (22), Brad (19), Greg, (16) and Jeremy (9). Daughters: Diane (20), Mandy (17), Brenda (14), Nancy (12)

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After lunch, Brad and I took the doors off Nicki’s and my bedrooms and the “kids’ bathroom.” This was not a big thrill for me and even less so for Nicki, as the last of our privacy was taken down and hauled to the basement. Brenda’s room was on the second floor too, but she had a small private bathroom that we had built for Sandy next to her bedroom, so she didn’t have to share ours. Mom told her she could use the big master bathroom on the ground floor next to Mom’s bedroom if she wanted a tub bath. We did a bit of straightening up and cleaning and then Brad took Mandy home. Brenda let Nicki and me get dressed and we sat around with Mom, discussing the details of Brenda’s duties and responsibilities and our responsibilities toward her. Basically what it boiled down to was “Brenda is in charge and you two do whatever she tells you to do.” No big surprise here, but at least we had clothes on for now and hoped to retain them for the rest of the day.

The Mom sprang another surprise. “Mike and Chris Meyers are coming over for dinner tonight to check out the place and make sure Brenda is comfortable here. Kevin, I want you to clean up all the debris left over from the unpacking and also get all the trash out of the back yard. We want to make a good impression on the Meyers. Brenda and Nicki will clean up the upstairs bedrooms put clean sheets on the beds. I’ll straighten up down here and then put dinner on. Brenda and Nicki can help in the kitchen after they get the upstairs squared away.”

When I went out into the back yard, I saw that a few of the kids from this morning had wandered back and were standing on the other side of the fence.

When they saw I was fully dressed, they looked disappointed and finally moved off. So I was able to pick up all the trash and put it into the dumpster in peace. Then it was the packing material from Brenda’s stuff. By the time I had all of it loaded into the dumpster it was overflowing, so I made a mental note to call the trash haulers for an extra trip tomorrow. At least that was something I could do without getting Brenda’s permission.

The Meyers arrived promptly at 6 PM and we all sat down in the living room for a chat. Michael was a very big man, perhaps 6’-4” and 250 pounds.
I could see where the kids got their height. He looked more like a linebacker than a college professor and, indeed, we later learned that he had played tight end at Oregon State in his college days. Christine was tall, too, but not very heavy. She had a nice figure and was impeccably dressed, but not overly “rich.” They both were charming and gracious and Mom obviously loved them on sight. We kids took them on a short tour of the house while Mom was finishing up dinner. They seemed pleased with what they saw, and especially with Brenda’s room. “This is bigger than her room at home,” Christine said. “And very well designed. I even like the wallpaper.”

“Sandy picked that out,” I said. “”She was our previous nanny and had very good taste.”

“And I even have my own bathroom!” Brenda piped up. “No more sharing with a half dozen other kids.”

Dinner was great. Mom had a huge pot roast and it was done beautifully and tasted wonderful. After dinner, we kids cleared the table and started the dishwasher while the three adults chatted in the living room. Then Brenda dropped the bombshell. “OK, kids, it’s time to get undressed for your bath.”

“But it’s only 7:30,” I objected. “We don’t go to bed until ten. ”

“Don’t worry,” Brenda said. “You can put on your pajamas after your bath and join us back here for an hour or so. So let’s get those clothes off and into the hamper while I start the water in the tub.”

“Do we have to undress here?” Nicki whined. “In front of your parents?”

Brenda laughed. “My parents have eight kids and they see all of us naked on a regular basis. They won’t be shocked by you guys.”

Nicki and I sighed, but we knew what would happen if we continued to argue. So we took off our clothes, put them in the hall hamper and trudged into the downstairs bathroom. I was dismayed to hear Mom say, “Why don’t you guys come in and watch. It will be so cute to see them in the tub together with their bare little bottoms.” At that moment I wished I had been an orphan. At our ages, the very last thing that Nicki and I wanted was a trio of adults admiring our “cute little bare bottoms.”

Brenda was filling the huge tub as we entered. “If either of you has to pee or poop before your baths, go ahead and do it now,” she remarked casually, not even looking at us. Nicki blushed bright red at the thought and I probably did the same. But, I suddenly realized that I did have to pee, so I did. It was the first time I had ever peed in the presence of three adults and two girls my age, but I managed to do it. Meanwhile, Brenda was helping Nicki into the tub – as if she really needed help at age twelve. Fortunately the tub had a non-skid bottom, so there wouldn’t be any awkward accidents with both of us in there. The Meyers were impressed at the size of the tub. “My, goodness,” Christine said. “That is certainly the biggest tub I have even seen in a private home.”

“Yeah,” Her husband agreed. “We could probably bathe all three of them in there.”

“Daaaadddy!” Brenda wailed. “Don’t say that. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Nicki and I looked at each other, shrugged and decided to ignore the implied, “but they are,” in Brenda’s comment. Her dad laughed, ruffled her hair and smacked her bottom gently. “Of course, you aren’t, pumpkin, I’m just teasing you.”

Then it was my turn to climb into the tub. Brenda had me sit on the other end, facing Nicki with our legs more or less intertwined. We were, of course, now staring directly at each other’s sex organs. A week or so earlier, that would have been hugely embarrassing, but we had seen too much of each other over the past two days for it to bother us much now. Brenda handed us each a washcloth and a bar of soap. “OK, guys, wash your upper bodies and each other’s feet and lower legs. I’ll take care of your backs and necks.”

So there we were, teen and preteen, sitting in a tub naked like a couple of five-year olds, washing ourselves and each other while the “big girl” scrubbed our ears, necks and backs. The adults stood around and watched the whole process. Mom kept giggling and Christine let out a few giggles herself. “They are so precious,” Mom said. “I remember when they were toddlers.”

“Yeah,” Christine chimed in. “I remember when Greg would get so serious about washing Brenda’s little pussy when they were five and four.”

All three of us blushed at that and Brenda almost twisted my ear off. “Mother, please, I’m not four years old anymore, if you haven’t noticed.” Sometimes I think there is something in the parents’ manual that tells them how to humiliate their children, especially when the kids get into their teens.

Anyway, Brenda was finally satisfied with the cleanliness of our upper and lower bodies and had Nicki stand up so she could wash her sex parts. Of course, this was humiliating for Nicki and I knew my turn was coming. Then Brenda made Nicki bend over so she could wash her bottom, her bottom crack and butthole. Of course, this brought Nicki’s head down within a foot of mine and I had to stare at her budding breasts and sex parts at close range the whole time. Finally, she rinsed off Nicki and helped her step out of the tub. Michael was there with a big fluffy towel and he proceeded to dry her off. Apparently, we were not even mature enough to dry ourselves off after a bath. So then it as my turn to have my sex parts, bottom crack and butthole washed very thoroughly by a girl a year younger than I was. She even soaped her finger and stuck it a short way into my butthole to make sure it was clean. (I think she had done the same to Nicki, but my view was blocked.)

So then I climbed out of the tub and stood still at Benda’s command. Christine took another towel and dried me off as Michael was doing with Nicki.
Brenda was busy draining and cleaning the tub. Mom just stood there giggling through the entire process. I might have felt better if she had expressed some sympathy over her children’s humiliation, but she just stood there with a silly smirk on her face the whole time. Finally, we were escorted, still nude, back into the living room where mom presented us with two bundles of clothing. “These are your brand new pajama’s, kids,“ She said with a silly shit-eating grin. “Go ahead and put them on now so we can see if they fit.”

As we unwrapped the bundles, we just stood there in shock. The pajamas were matching, bright yellow with little cartoon animals all over them. The kind you’d normally buy for a six or seven year old. The fabric was kind of a stretchy cotton like ski pants, but thinner. Worst of all, the legs had padded feet at the bottom of them. “Aren’t they cute?” Mom simpered. “I had to look all over for a matching pair in the right sizes for you.”

“Mom, you shouldn’t have,” I finally got out. “And I mean you REALLY shouldn’t have. We are twelve and fifteen not five and seven. You really expect us to wear these pieces of crap? Can we put ourselves up for adoption now?”

I was suddenly aware of Brenda behind me as she grabbed my ear and twisted. “Little boy, you will not speak to your mother in that fashion. I should wash your mouth out with soap, but I just cleaned the bathroom, so come with me.” She stomped off toward the couch and with my ear firmly in her grip, I had no choice but to be dragged along. She sat down on the couch and pulled me, still stark naked, over her knees, “Mom, will you get my hairbrush out of my backpack, please? This little boy needs a lesson in manners.”

Her mother brought her the hairbrush and Brenda proceeded to blister my bottom. Of course, I bawled, pleaded and squirmed as usual, but to no avail. The adults looked on in amusement and Nicki looked on in terror that she might be next. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, she stopped spanking, pushed me off her knees and onto the floor. Of course, I got up and did my “spanky dance” all around the room, rubbing my bottom frantically with my boy parts flopping around in a little dance of their own. Even Nicki was laughing at my antics while I tried to get myself back under control.

Not wanting the same treatment, Nicki started to put on the silly pajamas. It was even worse that I had initially feared. The jammies were about two sizes too small for her. The legs pulled the waistband down almost to her mound and the top was so short that a good two or three inches of bare midriff showed between top and bottoms. When she turned around, her butt crack was almost exposed and her bubble butt stood out in the stretched material like a second skin. In the front, her mound was clearly visible in outline and her slit almost defined. When I got into mine, I could feel that the situation was no better for me. What we were wearing was basically a pair of tights or a leotard with silly cartoon characters all over them. Christine giggled again. “I can see his red little bottom, right through the material.”

I looked imploringly at Mom. “OK, you guys have had your fun at our expense. Now can we go upstairs and put on our REAL pajamas? Please? I promise we’ll be good the rest of the evening.”

Mom shrugged. “Sorry kids, but these ARE your real pajamas from now on. I sent your old ones to Goodwill. You’ll find five more sets in your dressers. You’ll be wearing these until Brenda tells me you are acting mature enough to wear age-appropriate clothing.”

At that point, her mother nudged Brenda. “Honey, your clothes are all wet. You’d better wear a swimsuit when you bathe the children from now on. But now you need to put some dry clothes on.”

Brenda looked startled and looked down at her soaked clothes. “You’re right Mama, I better dry off and change now. Be back in a few.”

With that she proceeded to strip off all her clothes, carry them naked to the hall hamper and scamper off up the stairs. It was the first time I had ever seen her or any of the Myers kids naked, but it would not be the last. Obviously the Myers family had no real sense of modesty around the house. Looking at her teenage body, I was dismayed at how mature she was compared to me and Nicki. She looked more like an adult woman than a little girl. I was wondering when my own pathetic body would start to mature and I am sure Nicki was wondering the same thing. Naked, she looked five years older than me instead of a year younger. And Nicki looked like she should be in the fifth grade instead of the eighth. I had thought that Brenda’s mature appearance was due to her clothing and attitude, but the naked truth was even more dismaying.

In a few minutes, Brenda came back downstairs dressed in her adult pajamas and we all sat around and talked for the next hour or so. Finally, the Meyers adults got up to leave. They hugged Brenda and the three of us, told us to be good little kids for Brenda and, of course, told Brenda to behave too, which made her blush again. As they were going out the door, Christine said to Brenda, “Don’t forget to bring the kids in for their before-school physical on Tuesday morning. I’ll have Brad or Greg come by and pick you up about eight o’clock.”

Brenda sighed. “I will be so happy when I can get my divers’ license. It sucks to be depending on the older kids for everything.”

I made the mistake of opening my mouth. “I’ll be sixteen next summer, maybe I can drive you around.” Everybody laughed, even Nicki. Mom smiled and said, “Well, you have some growing up to do before we can even think about letting you drive.” I must have looked as crestfallen as I felt, because Brenda patted me gently on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry, Kevie-boy. Well make you into a man whether you like it or not. But don’t expect overnight miracles.”

With that the Meyers left and Brenda herded Nicki and me upstairs for an early bedtime. With all that had gone down that day, I didn’t even mind her watching us brush our teeth and use the toilet. She did insist on tucking us in, which was annoying. After she turned our lights out she went back downstairs to talk to Mom for a while. I don’t know how long it was, because I went to sleep in about fifteen minutes.

So now we had a nanny again. I was pretty sure we didn’t really need one, but complaining was not going to get me anywhere.

END of Chapter 7
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Teen Nanny – Chapter 8
Main Characters:
The Stevens Family: Mother, Margie (35), nurse at a local hospital, widowed 4 years ago. Son, Kevin (15), Daughter Nicki (12)

The Meyers Family: Father Michael (45) Professor of Psychology at UW. Mother: Christine (43) pediatrician at Swedish Hospital in Seattle. Sons: Mark (22), Brad (19), Greg, (16) and Jeremy (9). Daughters: Diane (20), Mandy (17), Brenda (14), Nancy (12)

Monday morning, we three kids were up at 8:00 AM, it not being a school day. One week to start of school. I was looking forward to it in some ways, dreading it in others. Neither Nicki nor I had grown an inch over the summer and we were already smaller than almost all of our classmates in June. Brenda, of course, was almost an adult in size and demeanor and dressed accordingly while we were still in our silly pajamas. Mom was still in bed as it was the start of her work week and she would leave the house around 2 PM and not get home until midnight. She had the only car, so the three of us would have to take the bus or get one of the older Meyers kids to drive us. Brenda made us a breakfast of pancakes and sausage, which was one of our favorites. Then she dropped the bomb.

“I talked to your mother last night and we agreed that you need new school clothes.” She said, so after breakfast we’ll take the bus downtown to the Kids Exchange and get you some new duds.”

“But the Kids Exchange is for little kids, “I protested. “We’re in the eighth and tenth grades now. That stuff is too small for us.”

“Don’t be silly,” Brenda said. “You are both small for your age and I am sure there will be plenty of stuff that will fit you. Besides, your mother has a discount card for the Kids Exchange and has me down as authorized to charge to her account. So it’s all settled and I don’t want any more arguments.”

“But we will look like big kids wearing little kids’ clothes,” Nicki complained. “The other kids will laugh at us.”

“If they do, report them to me or a teacher,” Brenda responded. “The Tyler School does not allow bullying. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll have Mandy or Greg beat them up. That will get their attention. Now let’s get the kitchen cleaned up and get ready to go.”

When we were finished in the kitchen, Brenda handed each of us a paper bag with clothing in it. “Now put on what’s in the bag and your socks and loafers, nothing else. The store is bound to be crowded with kids and parents the week before school starts and it will be hard to get a dressing room. So get upstairs and get changed.”

When I got to my room and opened the bag, I was horrified. The bag contained nothing but a pair of “Batman” underpants, size 12. I put them on, they fit perfectly, so I got a T-shirt and my normal shorts to go with them, but didn’t put them on. . As I walked by Nicki’s room, I saw that she had on a pair of “Supergirl” panties and a very short “Wonder Woman” top that didn’t even reach her belly button. She had tears in her eyes. “Kevin, we can’t get on the bus dressed like this,” She wailed. “Everybody will laugh at us.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “So I got some stuff to wear over them on the bus. It will be bad enough in the store changing clothes, but there will be people we know on the bus. Grab some shorts and a regular top, like I did. “

So she grabbed a couple of items and we walked down the stairs together. Brenda was in the living room, talking with Mom, who was still in her bathrobe. They both looked up at us as we walked in rather sheepishly. “Oh, good, the stuff fits,” She said. “I had to guess on the sizes. But what’s with the other clothes?”

“To wear on the bus,” I answered. “We can’t ride on the bus in our underwear. We’ll take the other stuff off while we are trying on clothes.”

“Nonsense,” Mom chimed in. “You two look absolutely adorable in those undies. They are dark colored so your private parts don’t show, so you’ll be perfectly fine on the bus.”

“But, Mama,” Nicki objected. “We’re not little kids any more. We’re supposed to look like teenagers, not babies.”

“Do as your mother says,“ Brenda snapped. “Or do I have to get out my hairbrush? Now drop those extra clothes on the couch, kiss your mother goodbye and let’s get to the bus stop. I’m not going to argue with you all day.”

So we sighed, dropped out shorts and shirts on the couch and kissed Mom goodbye. She patted us each on the bottom, smiling with delight and told us, “You children behave for Brenda. She has money for bus fare and also a bit extra for lunch and maybe a treat after you finish shopping.”

Great, now our own mother was treating us like a pair of six year olds. At least the Kids exchange was at the far end of the mall, so we wouldn’t have to run into any of our classmates shopping at the big kid stores. (Or so we thought.) Reluctantly, we trudged out of the house to the bus stop, following our new nanny and praying we wouldn’t run into any neighbor kids and have to explain why we were in our undies and Brenda was fully dressed. Fortunately, we didn’t meet anybody enroute to the bus stop.

It was a different story on the bus. First off, Brenda asked for one adult and two child tickets, which embarrassed both of us because we were both over 12, but the old guy driving the bus just glanced at us and waved us on. The bus was crowded, but some guy about 30 or so got up and gave Brenda his seat. She sat down, put Nicki on her lap and held my hand as I stood in the aisle next to her. The guy seemed interested in Brenda and talked to her like she was a grown up. She explained that she was 17 and our nanny and that Nicki was 9 and I was 11. The guy bought it and don’t try to put the make on Brenda as she was underage (If he only knew how far underage, he would probably have backed off completely, but he continued to talk to her like she was almost an adult and ignored us kids completely except to pat Nicki on the head and me on the shoulder.)
As the bus moved on, the other passengers looked at us and snickered, especially the kids. Some of the older women would pat our heads or my bottom and comment on how cute we were. It was all we could do to keep ourselves from screaming at them or kicking their shins, but we knew if we made any fuss, we’d get spanked on the spot, probably on the bare bottom, so we just seethed and kept silly smiles on our faces. I must have gotten my bottom patted twenty times before we reached the mall and Nicki got her cheek pinched about a dozen times. I never saw so many old ladies in one place outside of church, which we rarely attended any more. We were further dismayed when Brenda had us get off the bus at the near end of the mall instead of the far end, where the Kids Exchange was.

“I’ve got to pick up a couple things for myself,” She explained. “It will only take a few minutes.”

So we went into the main entrance of the mall, with Brenda holding Nicki’s hand and me holding Nicki’s other hand, “So you kids don’t wander off.” Naturally, the mall was full of high school kids shopping on their own and younger kids shopping with their parents. I saw two boys and a girl from my class last spring, but they didn’t seem to notice me in my toddler disguise. Nicki wasn‘t so lucky. Two girls from her old 7th grade class ran into us and teased her about her “cute” undies.
Brenda ran them off, but not before Nicki was blushing as red as her Supergirl panties. Then we turned into “Teen Time” which was full of girls from 12 to 18. Brenda took some pity on us this time and let us sit on a bench in a corner, still holding hands and admonished not to move until she got back. Amazingly, none of the girls (and a few boys) in the store paid any attention to us. They just glanced at us, wrote us off as little kids and pressed on with their shopping.

But then, when Brenda finished her shopping, she hauled us the full length of the mall, passing hundreds of people, some of whom stared at us, made silly remarks and giggled or snickered. Worst were the kids from 10-13, all fully dressed of course. But some of the grandmother types actually stopped us and commented on how cute we were, tousled our hair and even patted our bottoms. And a few older boys approached Brenda with romance in mind, but she fended them off saying, “I have to watch out for the little kids today, but maybe I’ll see you in school next week.” She gave some of them “her” phone number, but with two digits reversed. (When I asked her why, later, she said, “I don’t want a bunch of horny boys calling me, but if I meet one that I like in school later, I’ll just tell him he got my numbers mixed up.”)

When we finally got to Kids Exchange, it was pandemonium. There must have been a hundred kids in there between six and eleven, most with parents, some with older brothers and sisters. Most were fully dressed, but some were in their underwear like us and a couple of small boys were running around naked. The teens, of course, were all fully dressed ad some of them pointed at us and giggled or snickered. We went to the boys section first and I looked at the clothes and was dismayed. It was worse than I had thought. Almost all the clothes were children’s style, the larger sizes were just bigger versions of younger kids’ styles. I saw nothing that a teenage boy would choose to wear to school. But Brenda was insistent and we started trying on stuff. Unfortunately kid’s size markings vary a lot, so some of the stuff in size 12 was too big and some was too small so I wound up getting a few things that were size 10 and a couple that were size 14. At least Brenda let me pick what I wanted once I understood that “none of the above” was NOT an option. So I didn’t wind up with cartoon characters or cutesy animals, but all of the stuff was obviously kids’ clothes, not teen stuff. While we were picking out stuff, Nicki managed to find a secluded area to hide in so she wasn’t visible to most of the kids.

Finally, Brenda was satisfied and we got the stuff we’d picked out into bags and paid for. I was grateful at least that I could hold the bags in front of me and cover up the bulge in my underpants. When we got to the girls’ section, I got up the courage to ask Brenda if I could put on one of the outfits I had just bought since I wouldn’t have to be changing clothes anymore and didn’t have to hang around in my underwear. I was surprised that she refused and demanded to know why.

“I don’t want you getting your new stuff dirty. It’s for school and not for playing in,” She replied. “Besides, your mother has to approve all this stuff and I’m not going to take the tags off or get the clothes dirty in case we have to return it.”

I lost it at that point. “You stupid bitch,” I yelled. “You just want to humiliate us so you can get your jollies off. You’re not old enough to be a nanny in the first place and you are just doing it because you hate kids.” As usual, my mouth was going 60 mph while my brain was in neutral.

Of course, Brenda could not ignore that outburst. People were staring at us and laughing at my antics as I got red in the face, stomped my feet and put on a very convincing imitation of a two-year-old’s tantrum. She grabbed her hairbrush, pulled my underpants down to my ankles and slung me across her lap before I had a chance to react. “I have had just about enough from you today, young man,” She snapped and proceeded to smack my bare bottom with the hairbrush.

So there I was, naked from the ankles up, getting my bare bottom blistered by a girl a year younger than I was. Worse yet, we were surrounded by a couple dozen girls from age 6 to 20, a sprinkling of late-teen boys and several female adults. All of them were laughing, pointing and making encouraging remarks to Brenda as she turned my bottom red. Of course, I was bawling, pleading, squirming and kicking my feet the whole time, much to the amusement of the audience. At some point, I managed to kick off my underpants as well as both loafers. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, but it seemed like hours to me. I was sure my bottom would be blistered and bleeding for days and the pain was absolutely unbearable. When she finally let me up off her lap, I must have danced around the store for ten minutes, holding my sore bottom with my boy parts bouncing around for all to see.

When I stopped my spanky dance, a couple little girls came up to Brenda with my shoes and briefs. I started to reach for them, but Brenda put them into one of the shopping bags. The she told me to take off my socks and put them in the bag as well. Now I was completely naked from head to toe and still crying. Brenda guided me over to a corner and told me to stand there with my hands on my head until she finished shopping for Nicki. She also invited the girls to come up and feel how warm my bottom was. Most of them did and some of them gave me a few little spanks too. I must have been a very entertaining sight, stark naked, with a red bottom and tears and snot running down my face. About the only saving grace was that I hadn’t peed on myself.

So while I stood crying in the corner, Brenda went through the same thing with Nicki as she had with me. Nicki, of course, kept insisting that she was a big girl and shouldn’t be forced to wear baby stuff. That got her about as far as it did me and she mostly wound up with stuff that was size 8 with a few items size 10. Naturally, it was styled for girls in the 4th or 5th grade.
A couple times, I heard Brenda say “If you don’t want what your brother got, stop fighting me and we’ll get out of here before noon.” Tis was interspersed with a few loud smacks that sounded like a firm hand making contact with a girl’s panties. These, of course, was followed by the usual giggles and snickers from the peanut gallery. She did, however, let Nicki get a training bra and put it on in the store so her boobs (such as they were) would not show when she bent over in that tiny top.

Finally, Brenda was satisfied with Nicki’s wardrobe and I was released from the comer and allowed to put my briefs and shoes back on. But before we left the Kids Exchange, Brenda yanked up the back of my briefs into a “wedgie” that exposed most of my red bottom cheeks. So we walked slowly to the food court, with Brenda holding our hands while people laughed at Nicki’s undies and my red bottom. Sitting down on the hard metal chairs for lunch was painful, but I knew that squirming or complaining would just get me more of the same. Brenda ordered “kid’s meals” for us and a regular meal for herself. After we had eaten, we walked over to the ice cream place where Brenda bought us each a big cone as a “reward.” So we walked back to the bus stop at the far end, licking our cones and dripping ice cream all over my bare torso and Nicki’s cartoon shirt and bare midriff. At least she let go of our hands, since we had to carry our new clothes in one hand and the ice cream cones in the other. I am sure that anybody who saw us thought that we were going into the fifth grade and not the eighth and tenth.

END of Chapter 8
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(The End)