I am a person who
understands wardrobe malfunctions. It is
a problem that I am frequently plagues me.
Singing has
always been one of my favorite pastimes.
There is nothing like music to release the spirit within. While singing in the choir at my church one
morning as a teenager, I noticed that I felt particularly spiritual as I sang
and noticeably unencumbered. As a matter
of fact, I felt positively light and free.
Actually, it dawned on me that I felt freer than I ever had in church. At this point I realized that I had forgotten
to wear my bra.
Forgetting my
clothes is one thing, putting them on properly is another.
Several years
ago, I did a stint driving a school bus full of adolescents. Adolescents are frequently unruly but I was
lucky to have them under control, as they did not know me well enough to
disrespect me yet. That would soon
change.
One morning, as I
started out the day only half awake and had to dress quickly as I was running
somewhat later than usual. I wore a tee
shirt, but as was cold, I also wore a flannel shirt over that and my jacket
over both.
I picked up my
load of students and headed for school.
I shed my jacket and continued my drive.
Several snickers broke out behind me.
A glance in the mirror revealed several smirks, and many averted
eyes. I wondered what they were finding
so amusing. The girl behind me, a nice
mature sort of girl, tapped me on my shoulder. “Your shirt is on wrong side
out.” “How embarrassing,” I
thought. I took off my flannel shirt to
rid my self of the evidence.
Unfortunately, peals of mirth erupted from behind me. It seems that in my haste not only did I put
my flannel shirt on inside out, but my tee shirt was not only wrong side out
but also backwards. Any respect that I
had garnered at that point naturally was gone out the proverbial window.
I would like to
say that I have improved over the years, however, that is not the case.
I had to attend a viewing at a
funeral home a week ago. As I got out of
the car, I noticed that the dress that I was wearing, a long dress with a slit
to the knee seemed to be flowing better than usual. I started to look down so that I could check
on things, and promptly walked into a sign that was beside the sidewalk. That distracted me so I continued to the
funeral home. I walked by all of the
folks on the porch, and down the hall to the last room in the building. I asked someone if this is where I was meant
to be. She said it was, and as I started
to walk on thru the crowded room, she pointed out to me that the tail of my
dress was folded up, and possibly stuck in my underwear. It was.
Well, not too much of me was showing, and at least that day, I remembered
to wear underwear.
