17 July 2009

dressing for leprosy

In the spirit of it being Friday night, I thought I'd write an everything post.

I have just counted 16 bug bites on my legs. Yes, SIXTEEN. Mosquitos love me because I am sweet and precious. This is a trait that I have apparently passed onto my firstborn and the approximately 942 mosquitoes in our yard like using him as an appetizer before feasting on me. They like his ears and my ankles.

And I like it when they die.

Would getting a bat box be going too far?

So, yes, 16 mosquito bites. And I would assume that the general public is repulsed by the sight of me in shorts or a skirt except that I've started to realize that the general public is far too caught up in their own neuroses to notice that I'm a leper, which is convenient since I've heard that lepers aren't all that popular.

Which brings me to my next point...

That certainly makes things sound a lot more organized than they really are.

Anyway... my next point. I was at Dillard's a couple of days ago trying to find a dress that is A) long enough to cover my lesions, B) flattering on my 3-month-postpartum pudgy-and-not-springing-back-as-quickly-as-it-did-the-first-time body, C) not a solid color but not too busy, and D) not spaghetti strap or boudoir revealing. I'm not picky. I just a very vivid idea of the exact dress I want.

And it doesn't exist, but that's neither here nor there for now.

So, I happened upon a long dress with a nice pattern in subtle colors and while it did look like it would require some type of special undergarment, it didn't look like I would have to worry about the girls flying out if a kid or two decided to swing from the neckline. So, I was checking it out and trying to decide if I was ready for my first post-pregnancy trip to the fitting room when a small flock of college age girls wandered over to the area.

They were tan and ponytailed and were overusing the word like like a lot and I couldn't help but overhear their conversation as they were crowding around me.

"These dresses are pretty but they are like so long."

"Yah, why would anybody even like want to wear these... they do nothing for your legs."

"Yah, and your legs are like your best asset."

(they had clearly never seen my mosquito buffets)

"Oh, if you like one just do what I do... chop it off and like hem stitch it."

"I'm like totally sure I have no idea how to do that..."

And blah, like blah, blah blah...

They made me feel old and pasty and frumpy and... ugh. But as I walked away, I couldn't help but thinking of Tawanda. TAWANDA! Righter of wrongs!

"Face it girls, I'm older and I have more insurance."

Oh, and I didn't buy the dress. Because I'm so tight I squeak.