Dear, June.

“June and Jeffrey can you two please come into the kitchen?” my mother asked as me and Jeff sat on the couch watching our favorite movie, The Princess Bride.

Now I know that’s an interesting favorite movie choice, but me and Jeff love the classic. And to us, it doesn’t get more classic than The Princess Bride.

Jeff pressed the power button on the TV and pushed himself off the cream-colored couch.

I followed suit and we strolled into the kitchen.

“Jeffery what are you wearing?” my mother asked, as she gaped wide-eyed at my brothers clothes.

“Clothes,” he answered dumbly.

“Yes dear, I know that. But just who’s clothes exactly?”

“June’s,” again answered dumbly.

My mom put her perfectly manicured hand to her forehead, “Oh heavens. What did I do wrong?”

I looked over at Jeff and giggled. He look absolutely ridiculous in one of my tight, fitted tank tops, a pair of my skinny jeans, and a pair of Ugg boots. Which he was only wearing because earlier that morning he bet me that I couldn’t eat more than five pancakes, and lost that bet. That’s another thing me and Jeff do a lot: make bets.

“Mommy, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I soothed. “Jeff was just destined to be a cross-dresser.”

Jeff pinched my arm, “I'm not a cross-dresser! I just lost a bet.”

My mom sighed, “You two are a pair.”

“A pair of morons,” I added.

“You know June, you just called yourself a moron,” Jeff told me.

I made a face at him, “I know that, Jeffrey.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” my mom said, massaging her temples. “The Barakat’s have invited us over for dinner.”

“The Barakat’s?” I asked. “Are they by any chance from Lebanon?”

“Lesbians?” Jeffery asked perkily.

My mother makes a ‘tsk’ sounds, “No, June, they are not from Lebanon. They’re our next door neighbors.”

“Right,” I dragged out the ‘t’.

“So could you two please behave civilly?”

“Of course, mother dearest,” I beamed.

She gave me a look, “I don’t know why I even asked.”