Permed hair out to here. Gold satin pants with matching gold satin hooded jacket. A pair of white open toed platform shoes, exposing delicate pink toenails. Her fingernails polished to match her pink toes.
Sherry was nearly ready. Just one more layer of mascara. Her eyes so thic
(more)k with the stuff already, when she blinked several lashes would stick together for a second or two. Her lips were slathered with cherry gloss. Her pants fit so tight, there was no question she was female. Her outfit resembled more of a costume then a evening out ensemble.
She was 1970's stunning, as she smacked her gum and asked, "How do I look?"
"You're so pretty." I told her. I touched the glass tube of lip gloss.
"You can try some."
I smiled. I caught a glimpse of my crooked teeth in the mirror and quickly closed my lips together.
"My mom says I'm too young for make-up." I said still trying to hide my teeth.
"Hmph."
Sherry switched on the turntable. Gently blew on the needle and lowered the arm to the spinning record.
Peaches and Herb. "I love this song." She closed her eyes and swayed her satin hips.
We sang along, "The breakup we had has made me lonesome and sad. I realize I love you...'Cause I want you bad, hey, hey..."
Sherry opened her eyes. The left one stuck closed for a second until she pried it open with her thumb and forefinger. "I gotta run. I hear my ride." She was out the door before I could stand up.
Sherry would be back before my mom got home. She always was. Her outing would be our secret.
She was the grooviest babysitter I ever had.(less)
