Okay, so I know that I’ve (maybe!) been more than a little stressed these days, what with funerals and grandbabies and hospitals and chickens coming and now catching a little bit of the bug that’s going around, but today made me know that I have got to gather my wits around me and pay attention.
I have this sore throat and stuffy nose. (But not that horrible cough. So far. Thank God!) I got up this morning feeling more ragged around the edges than I have for a long time. So I sat on my chair in the sunshine and slept and then moseyed about, getting my ladies up, combing my hair, and just really not doing much. Had some unexpected company, which was delightful, and finally, after one o’clock this afternoon, I bestirred myself to get dressed in a skirt and top to run up to Shawnee Country Store to pick up some lunch for the family.
It was a bit chilly out, so I grabbed one of my shortest jackets and threw it on, and headed out the door. When I got to Shawnee Country Store, the order wasn’t quite ready yet, so i meandered about the store and then waited in the aisle by the cash register until things were done. It’s always a mixed up mess when I get things for everyone because Nettie and Cecilia all need separate checks, and it seems like there is always a line when we are getting everything separated and into their proper receipts. But we finally got that done and I got the different bags and headed home.
I parceled out the things for everyone except Cecilia, and then I took off my coat before cutting her stuff into small bite size pieces. Suddenly something really looked strange with my skirt. I looked at it carefully, and here, in my haste, I had it turned exactly halfway around when I put it on. There was this big, long, gaping pocket right in front in the middle, kinda looking like a careless male’s X-Y-Z situation. I was embarrassed to see that, but when I thought about the fact that a similar situation had also occurred in (ahem!) the rear, I was mortified. Especially when I realized that there had been no coverage from that “shortest jacket” business.
But that wasn’t the only faux pas. A bare fifteen minutes later, I was on my chair, eating my half sub when I saw Eldest Daughter looking at me the way my daddy always looked at me when I wasn’t sitting like a lady. I couldn’t figure out what she meant. My skirt was properly over my knees. I wasn’t sitting across from a male, anyhow. What was the big deal? Then she hissed, “Mom, your shirt!”
Oh, dear. Somehow my old red shirt, once so highly favored by yours truly, had betrayed me. It had rolled up somehow, and there, as bare as could be was a most unattractive roll of tummy showing. I grabbed the offending hem and yanked it down, again almost unable to believe that I didn’t feel the fresh air blowing where it never does. I just could not believe that I hadn’t noticed!
I often say that when I have a stuffy nose, I can’t think. (My brain needs air!) Now it appears that not only can I not think, I cannot see or hear.