"C'mon, stop that crying," my father had chided me. I was six or sevenand had been hit by a clutchball. "Crying is for girls. You don't wantto be a...girl do you?" I tried not to cry as I sat on the bathroom floor, sputtering andcoughing with toilet water dripping onto my clothes; but I felt thetears forming in my eyes. I could hear laughter echoing off the wallsof the bathroom. Others had gathered around to watch my humiliation. "What's going on in here boys?" I heard someone say. The. .."Jennifer just smiled widely and knowingly at me and my mom, and my momgave me a wink and a nod."Oh My God you bitches were working together? You have Got To Be KiddingMe! What if I would have stopped this whole thing and gone back to beinga man and a Rogers? How could you have been so confident? And JENNIFER,WHY were you talking to my mom WAY before I knew about it? What thehell?" Beth, honey" Jennifer said, "I had my suspicions about you and just hadto call your mom about it. I said. More

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