We sat at the table and had one of the best conversations I think I'veever had with Mother. She was making no judgments, and was treating kindof like ... daughter. We talked for the longest time about why I wanted towear the panties and bras. We talked about bra comfort and styles, andcontinued on with that question about wearing thongs. I'm totally againstit, by the way. It just seems unsanitary for some reason. Mother agreeswith me. Not only that, but who'd in their right mind want to live with. " I'm okay, babe,"I said."Nope. I'll be right back." She came back with four glasses and a carton of juice. She sat back down, poured her and me each a cup and scooted her chair closer as we ate breakfast together. We finished together and as I sat back, I felt her hand pat my bare knee under the table. I couldn't let this go unacknowledged. I reached under the table and squeezed her fingers. She smiled at me.We found out that four was entirely too many for the small kitchen of these. More

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