So Excited, I Lost My Tights

Gracie was nominated by her Art teacher to be in a county art show tonight.  It’s being held at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens and there will apparently be hors d’oeuvres there.  I just had to Google “hors d’oeuvres” to spell it correctly so I’m assuming my skinny jeans won’t do as attire.

The black dress pants I had selected were a bit, umm, small on my broadening-by-the-day-because-it’s-the-holidays-and-I-haven’t-been-to-the-gym-since-I-had-to-wear-a-unitard-at-Hallween ass.  As I rifled through my closet for something stretchy, another skirt was eliminated because of its smallishness.  Bastard.  I was getting so desperate, I was rifling through my closet archives which consists of a tacky faux leather gay cowboy shirt a friend sent me, the shirt I wore on my very first date ever, and my high school letterman jacket.  Finally, I found a skirt so stretchy, John Goodman could wear it and I put that bitch on.

It fits but a bit of my leg could possibly show in between the skirt and my boots.  If you’re a friend of mine on Facebook, you know I accidentally participated in Movember but with my legs and underarms.  It is hella windy here today.  I don’t want to be mistaken for a Sasquatch and get kicked out of the Botanical Gardens so I went searching for a pair of tights to slap on to cover my freakishly mannish body hair.  I know for a fact I had at least two pairs of opaque tights in my dresser drawer.

hair

Those are female legs, according to Pinterest, but they are not my legs.  Both of mine are hairy.

I found no tights but I did find thigh highs I do not recall ever buying.  A lacy red pair, a lacy black pair, and a pair of plain black.  They’re new in the package from Blackheart.  I have only been in that store once, in Arlington, Texas last summer with my girlfriends.  I know I didn’t buy them then because it was summer in Texas and the last thing on your mind during summer in Texas is stocking up on anything that will suffocate your legs further.  Plus my friends would have demanded to see me in the thigh highs.  Been there, done that, and don’t plan on doing it ever again.

E…  you have some ‘splainin’ to do when you get home from the airport tonight.  Also, I’ve thrown out all your socks and put the thigh highs in your drawer.  Good luck getting dressed at 5:30 in the morning.

In the meantime, I’m going to the Botanical Gardens with au naturel legs and letting the Sasquatch hairs fly.  Wish me luck.

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