Then came the recurring stab of pain. "Why can I not prove myself in combat like my valiant and doughty ancestors? Why am I doomed to be a feeble woma... all my life?" She recalled that day when her darling friend Martha had felled her with a single fearsome blow to the jaw, instantaneously reducing her to a state of semi-comatose humiliation. She had always accepted that the punch in question had been well merited and richly deserved, but the fact that she been able to do no other than succumb. "Obviously. This is a special occasion and I need to look my best."Aunt Helen still looked dumbfounded. "All of that is your clothes?" What else would it be?" mom replied, looking slightly confused.There was an 'oh my god' look on Aunt Helen's face as she put her hand over her mouth. She was clearly surprised."I am so sorry," Aunt Helen gasped.Mom squinted at her younger sister. "Why?"Aunt Helen's entire body tensed. "There must have been a confusion between us somewhere." Oh my goodness. Has. More

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