Delicacy

I was being observed and viewed with ridicule as I edged around the cow-pies in the field. The town girl who was squeamish about excrement. One of the boys caught my eye and with a wide smile plunged his bare foot into a big soft pile. “Oooooh! Still warm!” he said, ecstatically. Later, when we were climbing trees they made a fuss about seeing my underpants under my skirt. I thought it was funny that they were so pragmatic about shit, but became delicate about seeing a piece of cloth designed to cover areas best not openly displayed.