Saturday's Storyteller: "Sherman, how many times have I told you not to DO that?"
by Belinda Roddie Sherman, how many times have I told you not to do that? It's a rhetorical question, kid. Sixteen. Sixteen times over the past two months. And yet you won't listen. I know you feel your most comfortable when you do this, but you know I don't like explaining it to the neighbors. They see you from their windows, you know. Singing along to your iPod as you wash the dishes or cook, sashaying your hips while you wear that frilly floral apron. My apron. I just might gain twenty pounds so you can't fit into my dresses anymore. I'll buy clothes that are too big for you, so you can't wear them. I'll throw away all my good jewelry so you don't steal my pearls anymore. You remember Harriet, your next door neighbor? She goes by Harry now. It's awful. She's starting to grow stubble. She smokes. She drinks! She looks more masculine than your own father. And now you're going in the exact opposite direction. Like an uncooperat