His name was Guy, and he was super polite and charming and he and Dad got along really well. They both liked to talk about motorbikes and racecars, al... that boring stuff that didnt (and still doesnt) appeal to me. He often came around on the weekends and had a few beers with dad to pass the time. The night of my birthday party, at about 9 oclock, I was absolutely trashed off my third drink. My girl friends and I were hanging out around the pool, too drunk to manage to put on our bathers, so we. Instead of using that grace to catch flyballs, Jill's grace would be harnessed for such activities as curtseying. He imagined his Jillie in all her future prancing, and capering in silly female play-- the things SHE would be trained to like and find expression in. Jill would soon forget he had ever partaken in anything as messy and unfeminine as baseball. No, HIS Jillie wouldn't be running in sneakers, SHE would be skipping in her dainty high heels. He wouldn't be rounding bases, SHE would. More

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