For a moment we grinned at each other, then hand-in-hand we raced for the stairs.Robbie sat at her computer. "Any particular genre?" Rock. Some Alice ...ooper, The Doors, Iron Butterfly."Robbie shot me a look. Not my usual music, but somehow we had to drive the demons out. She used her mouse to click several things on the screen and the music started;"Riders on the storm..." Now what?" she asked, standing."You're wearing too many clothes."She giggled. "So are you."We both started shedding. But I just can't let you turn my son - my _son_, for God's sake - into a woman. It's out of the question." It was time for me to play a tiny bit dirty. "Mr. Albertson, I understand your reluctance. In our culture, boys are trained to abhor women, to think of them as lesser people that they need to distance themselves from. Your aversion to the plan is a natural consequence of a deep-seated misogyny that is an almost inevitable consequence of your upbringing. But, for your child's. More

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