This week I went against my own grain. I threw away perfectly good underwear. Bras included. Never, even though I’ve read it can be a good idea, did I realize just how good this little bit of secret do over can be!
Flying in the breeze has nothing on this! Don’t get me wrong. I have already shared that I am a twice divorced single mother. That doesn’t mean that I wore ugly undies all these years. But, when choosing said undies, I always considered the tastes of others. Not this time. This time, I picked the undies I wanted. Yesterday, I wore my brand new Wonder Woman undies with a matching bra to work. I FELT LIKE WONDER WOMAN!!! It was great. Today, known only to me (until now) I wore this lacy bit of pretty under my shapeless scrubs. Nothing could stop me. I had my secret going. Who cares if anyone else saw it? I knew that under the shapeless bit if thin cotton built for utility, I had a little something special going on. So, ladies, I implore you. Wear the good undies. For you. Not for anyone else. You’re worth it.
I’m often told that I should write a book. As much as I enjoy reading them, that seems a rather lofty goal. But I do actually enjoy writing. Way more than I enjoy cleaning the house. So here we are. I’ve decided that I’d like to expand my lovely tribe of women to include others who may not have a tribe yet, or who, like me want to grow the tribe. Hop on in. Ignore the laundry. Bet it will still be there in the morning. Mine will be. I’m going to ignore it too. And I’m going to ignore it until tomorrow night. When it has really had time to multiply while I’m at work. I might think about it while I’m there. I might not. Hopefully not.
So, a little bit about me. Three kids, two divorces, blah, blah, blah. Yep. Not good at the man choosing. But I have really hilarious kids and really good friends and family. Some for several years, some fairly new. You’ll hear more about them later. Some of them give me pretty good material. Its ok for us to laugh at stuff. Just be nice about it. You’re safe here! Sometimes things are funny, even things we’ve been taught not to laugh at. I’ll go first. For instance, about 6 weeks ago when I decided to buy a BBQ grill in a box because the assembled version didn’t fit in my car. The act of me and 2 store clerks trying to fit that monster in the backseat of my car as my 10 year old shouted encouragement to all of us is story all its own, but not as good as the infamous assembly. After I cartwheeled that 80 pound box from my car to the backyard I sat and looked at the box for a few weeks. It was like that thing was taunting me. So I decided to unpack it. Can’t be that hard to assemble, right? WRONG!!! No directions. Ok, Google them. Problem solved. Ha! I’m not sure what kind of sadist wrote those instructions. I don’t want that person in my tribe. Two days later, I finally had the thing fully assembled. Firebox backwards. I used it anyway. The grill has a name. Not a nice one. I threatened to burn my college degrees in the backwards firebox because they were useless. Kids laughed. For a minute. Then they ran in the house. They probably laughed more once they were safely inside, away from me and the grill with a bad name. Welcome again to my tribe, unless you were the person that wrote those instructions.