When I was 4or 5, most of my clothes were my brother out grown one's. We were eleven months apart, so I did what he did. We even wrestled around most days. Then there was this kid who lived next door, and he kept being mean to me, so I beat him up. He ran home crying to tell. My dad got wind of it, and tanned my hide until I couldn't sit for a couple of days. I tried to explain what happened, but my father told me I was a girl, and because of that, it wasn't right for me to beat up a boy, and that boys came first in everything. From then on I was made to wear a dress. Big wake up for me. :tapfoot::grin::hiteachother: