“Wear clean underwear, in case you are in an accident!”
I actually heard my grandmother utter that cliché once. Y’all thought that was just a joke people used, didn’t you?
I’m not sure I understand exactly why clean underwear would be important. How can I put this “delicately?” I’m telling you that if I were in an accident … ummm … bodily functions being what they are … I’m not sure anyone would be able to tell if the state of my underwear was a “before” or “after.”
Underwear was not my grandmother’s primary concern, though. “Always look your best,” was her motto. Mamaw wouldn’t even go to the grocery store without first primping to the maximum. She wouldn’t leave the house without face powder and a touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips; her hair had to be perfectly coiffed; and she always wore her best weekday dress (unless it was Sunday or a special occasion). I’m not sure I ever saw Mamaw in pants — even when she was working in the fields or the chicken house.
For a little trip to town, it took Mamaw an hour to prepare. However, my grandmother never needed coffee!
It’s a cold, rainy, dreary day here. After my morning shower, I just threw on the lime green sweat pants and ratty sweater I had worn to take out the trash. They are ugly, it’s true, but they are warm.
I sat down at the computer to read some blogs, when I heard that little voice in my head (well, one of the little voices in my head) whispering, “Give me coffee!”
I ignored her for awhile, but then she screamed, “COFFEE NOW!”
What could I do? I had to go to the coffeehouse and get the
bit… voice a mocha.
I did not heed my Mamaw’s advice this morning (don’t y’all be getting ahead of me now…). It was later than usual for me to get coffee, so I figured there wouldn’t be many people at the coffee house. I hadn’t washed my hair, so I just pulled it back in a knot and slammed a hat on my head. I didn’t even bother to put on mascara. All the socks were in the dryer so I found a mismatched pair and my sneakers, grabbed my coat and my coffee cup and raced out the door.
I screeched into a parking place in front of my local coffee house. Yes, you guessed it. Crowded inside that establishment I think I saw every person I have ever met in my life! With my head ducked, making no eye contact, I plowed my way past everyone and went to the counter.
Have y’all ever noticed that when you are trying to be “invisible” everyone wants to talk to you? A woman I see at the coffee house regularly gave me an appraising look (you know, her eyes swept me up and down). She put a mock look of concern on her face and in a stage whisper, loud enough for people to hear across the courthouse lawn, she asked, “Are you O kaaaay? You look like Death warmed over!”
As I grabbed my cup of mocha, I stared her straight in the eye and growled, “I have clean underwear!” With my head held high, I marched right out the door.
Do y’all ever have days like that?
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