My husband and I took a little “romantic trip for two” last weekend, so I did not get my usual laundry done. This week, being school vacation, saw me working 60 hours coordinating an educational and recreational program for children with disabilities. It was an awesome, fun week, and the kiddos were a joy! However, by the time I dragged myself into the house in the early evening, I had no energy to do any type of cooking/cleaning/thinking/talking or moving. The only movement I could muster up was my index finger on the TV remote…
Getting dressed this morning, there was not a piece of clean underwear to be found. Not in my underwear drawer, in the dryer, under the bed, on the floor of the bathroom, in the puppies bed, or in the refrigerator. (You never know…) What was I to do? It briefly crossed my mind to not wear any, but that idea was quickly tossed aside. In “my” generation, we just didn’t DO that. So, I dug up the only pair of underwear left…the unworn g-string bikini bottom to a baby doll negligee I had brought on our romantic weekend. (I always optimistically pack several “outfits”…) Slipping the bikini on, it was immediately apparent that it were not going to adequately cover all of my “private areas”, but it was either that pair or nothing, and nothing was not an option. The thought of getting into an accident and having the paramedics see a woman my age wearing a g-string bikini did seem horrifying, so I promised myself I would drive very carefully and walk very slowly all day so as not to get into an accident or trip and fall…
Finding a bra was almost as difficult, but in the back corner of the drawer was one bra that had eluded trash day. The straps were so old and loose that it did not properly support my breasts in the manner to which they are accustomed. Other than going braless, which would surely have traumatized a few people, I put on the saggy resemblance of a bra. To say that my breasts came within inches of my waistline is not an exaggeration. But it was better than down to my knees…
Finding a shirt was almost as difficult, but way in the back of my closet was a “beautifully” flowered shirt that I used to wear when I was two sizes larger. For some reason I’d always loved that shirt because it was “comfy”, so on it went. At least with all of the bold flowers, my sagging breasts were not so apparent.
For pants, I wore the same pair of jeans I had worn earlier in the week. Jeans seem to be the one item that do not have to be washed every time they are worn. Of course, when you wear them a little more than you should, they DO get baggy in all the wrong places, which resulted in a bigger rear end than I would normally sport. Fortunately, the flowered shirt was so large that it completely covered this area anyway.
The biggest challenge, even when I DO the laundry, was finding a pair of matching socks. I looked ALL OVER….and I was thrilled when I finally found a pair of matching red and white striped socks. Of course, the stripes were on candy canes, and big red Santas graced the top band of the socks, but at least they matched!
My Dansko shoes, (the only type I can wear comfortably,) were on the porch where I had taken them off. Unfortunately, Jody, our new puppy, had decided they made great chew toys, and she had chewed the decorative leather band around the top of them. Fortunately, she had chewed them both equally so they at least matched…
I quickly tried to fix my unruly hair, which can usually be coaxed into a semblance of curls and puffiness. Not today. Today it refused to be tamed. My hair is longer than usual because there has been no time to get a haircut, so it is super fluffy and frizzy, and standing on end all around my head like a wild lion mane. Better than that….like Phil Spector…
Looking in the mirror, I assessed my appearance. Hair unruly enough to scare Frankenstein. Saggy breasts under a garden explosion of a shirt that was so large my daughter could have fit in it with me. Saggy jeans, which are somewhat of a relief because they do not fit tightly enough to force the bikini bottom to slide up into my butt. Shoes missing the decorative strap, but otherwise presentable. And white and red striped socks…not too bad if you don’t look at the top of them. I was “passable” as long as I stood up all day lest people see the Santas on the top of my socks. Then I would look REALLY ridicules….
PS. I have recently been honored with a special award from http://lyricsonthelake.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/because-why-not/:
The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids With Disabilities and Remaining Sane
Authored by Linda Petersen
The link to the book:
Link to the Readers Digest review of my book: http://www.rd.com/recommends/what-to-read-after-a-hurricane/