50 Shades of WHAT THE?…..
As I’ve gotten older, whenever the weather warms up I tend to shed clothes, mostly underwear. I really DESPISE underwear all of the time. I literally “know why the caged bird sings”. There’s a certain sound mines make when released from their cotton, silk, lace, or spandex prisons. You probably don’t want to know what the sound is so I will spare you the details.
I’ve always loved the way a sundress feels against my skin. So free flowing. It makes walking feel like sitting in a rocking chair, on grandma’s porch, in the country, on a nice breezy spring evening, sipping tea…the sound of crickets chirping in the background soothing your soul. Away from all of the noise and hustle and bustle of the city….back and forth, and back and forth. I’m sure you get the picture.
I recently learned as spring has approached, and me being in the “Spring” of my life, so to speak, that before opting out of underwear, I need to be sure I’ve opted IN to a Brazilian wax or at least a Schick.
Let me paint a not so nice picture…
I come home 1 day, feeling good, mid-afternoon, it’s warm outside, but I am cool because I have on a little dress…cotton, kinda short, free-flowing, and I’m feeling SEXY!!
I make my way to the kitchen, singing, snapping my fingers, dancing, stopping every now and again to do a lil twirl, ’cause life is AMAZING. I go to the cabinet, take out my fave wine glass, dance my way to the fridge and grab a bottle of wine. I pour myself a glass, take the bottle and head to my bedroom, excited about the mid-day “Law & Order SVU” marathon that’s on.
In my bedroom, I have a chair that sits next to my bed close to my oscillating fan (cause I’m always hot). I turn the fan on, prop my foot up on the bed and let out a sigh of happiness as the 1st sip of wine slides down my throat, and the air from the fan hits the right “spot”, and think to myself “if Heaven feels anywhere near close to this, then I need to get right with the Lord, ’cause that’s where I need to BE”.
All is right with the world, and I decide to check my lady “bird” out after my 2nd glass of wine, since I am sitting there, with my foot propped, and the wind is hitting it, and it’s singing, and I’m doing nothing else, and it had actually been a few months since she and I had really just seen one another.
Welp, all hell broke loose…
When I looked down, I saw what I thought were little white pieces of lint, but how? I was sans undies, so where could they have come from? Whatever…”just brush them off girl” is what I told myself. But they weren’t moving. So I went to pick them off “OUCH” *spills wine*! WHAT THE HELL?! They’re stuck to my lady “bird”. So now I’m a little discombobulated, as clearly I’ve drunk too much wine because I’m seeing things. I hop up, run to the bathroom, where there is better lighting, grab my hand mirror and prop my foot up on the toilet. As I look closer, I see those lint balls better, but let me grab my glasses because they’re not looking like lint anymore. So I grabbed a flashlight to get an even better look because this can’t be what I think it is.
With my glasses on my face, mirror in one hand, flashlight in the other, foot propped on the toilet, and my lady “bird” in full view, there it was, right there, staring at me. Don King’s hair was growing out of my “bird”! WHY ME JESUS?!?! I just proclaimed I was going to get my life right so that I can spend eternity with you, and THIS is what I get???
And the crying started….
I called everyone in my phone who I thought cared about me, most hung up when they realized what my hysterics were about. Only 2 friends let me vent it out, and I later learned they weren’t listening with concern, they were amused. And what I thought was the sound of them crying with me, was them laughing themselves to tears
So there I sat, alone, with my bottle of wine, that’s now half empty, crying, with my hands on “bird” because I never knew how course gray hair felt, and I was devastated yet intrigued. I have 3 strands on my actual head, and I remember when I discovered each of them (1 when I turned 30, 1 when I turned 40, and 1 when I turned 45). So how could I be full blown Betty White below? Just makes no sense.
For the next 2 weeks, anyone who’d listen learned more about me than they probably cared to know, even strangers. I had questions and concerns and I needed feedback!!!!
With a gray “bird” and no eyelashes, I’ll never get a man now!!! Maybe I’ll get a belly piercing, I hear men like that nowadays!