I don't know if I actually remember the story of Daddy, me and the dress, or if I've heard Mama tell it so many times, it seems like I do.
It was coming on winter in middle Georgia where we lived, and I was dressing to go outside to play. Of course, I put on a dress. Mama told me in no uncertain terms to go take off the dress, and to put on my corduroy pants and Buster Brown shirt. Evidently, I wasn't having any of that. I'm pretty sure there was some foot stomping involved.