Keep Your Knickers On!

I was about eight and it was PE day. Not the best day to be at school without knickers on. But then I don't suppose for one moment I stopped to think about that when I waltzed off to school that morning.

I had a habit of going knickerless at that age. It would drive Mum barmy. "People will think I don't buy you any," she'd say. Or "You'll catch your death with the wind blowing up your skirt." As it happened, I rather liked the wind blowing up my skirt. Tut tut.

Anyway, this particular day the PE teacher decided we'd play rounders in the playground. The boy's playground. We were segregated back then. Just as well considering my penchant for going knickerless, I suppose.

We didn't have PE kits - everybody just played in whatever they were wearing but most would come suitably clad, knowing it was PE day. Apart from me, that is. Where most of the other girls were wearing shorts, I was wearing a skirt.

You're starting to get the picture now, aren't you?

Eventually it was my turn to bat. The ball came at me, I swung the bat and wallop! The ball thundered across the playground, hit the tree and ricocheted across to the boy's toilets. All this gave me plenty of time to get a 'rounder', so off I went, feet moving as fast as they could carry me. First base....second base....third base....smack! I felt flat on my face, skirt round my waist and doing a moony.

I got up, ran out of the gates and didn't stop until I was home.

Oh, the shame! Everybody had seen my bare bum! Even the boys!

It was several days before I dared go back to school, and then only because a group of my class mates came to my house to tell me that nobody gave a shoot about my bum and that if it was upsetting me that much, they'd all show their bums too.

How's that for solidarity?

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