Greta“Ach, du lieber! I’ve not had time to answer mein liebchen’s last letter, and here’s another,” Greta said as her son’s wife handed her her mail.
“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Children are very forgiving, Mutter.”
Greta loved her daughter-in-law calling her mutter. The girl was not German, but she’d picked it up from her husband.
Greta took the letter from the envelope. She saw a second page was a photograph. Her sweet boy in his dance costume, the black tights, the sparkly shirt. She frowned.
“What is it, Mutter?”
She held the picture out to her daughter-in-law. “Look.”
“Wow. I knew Shelly was a dancer, but he looks magnificent in this costume.”
“But the top, the top. It is a top meant for a girl,” Greta said, disapprovingly.
“Nobody can tell.”
“I can tell. The cut, it is diff
