ABSTRACT
It is three days after my twelfth birthday and my mother is sitting beside me on the edge of my bed. She is holding a box of sanitary napkins and a little booklet that reads What Every Young Girl Should Know and telling me for the third straight year that I am to read the booklet and keep the pads hidden from the sight of Daddy and Leroy. I am hardly listening, I am sneaking furtive glances out the window and patiently waiting for her to finish so I can meet the boys out on the lot for our softball game.
