I'm about to venture into a new age. An age in which I wear (shudder).....dresses. Eeeek. If you have read my earlier posts, you know my striking resemblance to a Hobbit. Picture Frodo in a dress....stop laughing....feel my pain. My friend Loree assured me that my legs do not resemble the tree trunks that I see but then again, she is my friend. How do you tactfully say that to someone? As I get older, it does seem that at some point dresses will no longer be an option. As my knees loose any semblance of shape, at some point they will need to tucked into my shoes. Boots may be a good choice then. This may be my last chance.
Dresses allow for an air of femininity. Those that know me are again....laughing. Femininity and I are not close companions. Although not incredibly athletic, I do tend to feel more comfortable with masculine tasks. When friends were moving, I would be hefting furniture as opposed to cleaning the bathroom. When my children were young, we bonded by wresting in the living room...or in the bedroom...or on the roof. Even with my male staff, I have to watch my boundaries. At a holiday party last year, one instructor made a smart aleck comment and as I was two lemon drops in, I smacked him in the head. Hard. Eeek. Thankfully, he forwent suing me for some additional job security. Several years ago, my house was constantly filled with males of all ages - college guys from our church, high school friends of my boys, or just neighborhood kids hanging out. Mostly males - I have borrowed girls on occasion from my friends. While delighted to go shopping or spend time talking with them, I always returned to my boys satisfied with what God had given me.
My poor husband - you can imagine his plight. He thought he was marrying a woman! Someone frilly, sweet and.....well, lets just say it....feminine. He stood in shock and amazement the first time he saw me pounce on top of a neighborhood kid and knock him to the ground. We then had a full on Wrestlemania session with him sitting and rethinking his life choices. Poor man.
Wrestling when your nearing 46 is no longer fun. My son and I went into a punching war recently. I limped away to lick my bruises and find my inhaler. I then slept for six hours. I am truly old. Since my tomboyness is no longer working for me, I may just try out this feminine thing. Maybe its time. Everyone has to grow up sometime, right? When better than when you're nearing 50. So....I have two new dresses hanging in my closet. This will be the first year in about five that I will wear a dress to my husbands Christmas party. I have always found a delightful pants suit. Hey...before you get the mental image...they were dressy pant suits, not a three piece suit off of the men's rack.
Now this all started because my son made Homecoming Court. This is my second son to make court; social skills are not lacking in my offspring. Must come from their Dad's side! Two years ago, I wore a pair of Plazo pants and sequined top to proudly walk my son out to the football field during the Homecoming game. Now...this was a very positive choice for me as I had to climb out of the back seat of a Convertible. I have not figured out why they make back seats in Convertibles as they only fit a three year old comfortably. When getting back in, I believe I mooned the entire audience. The pants, as I said before, were a good choice. This year I will be coming in a golf cart. No doors. No climbing...and hopefully.....no mooning. So.......a dress it is. I going to try it. I may end of scarred for life and return to the comfort of my pants. As I am making out my "bucket list" however, and wrote down sky diving and doing the zip line at the Wild Animal Park, I've decided that I can do this. I will confess, the sky diving is less frightening to me. Someone be on the sidelines with an inhaler and some Valium. I may need it.
Hope all is well with everyone - have a great weekend.