Sunday, October 26, 2008


I had an epiphany this morning, as I struggled with a particularly bothersome pair of pantyhose. Now, I do not often wear pantyhose anymore, because really, who does? But this morning it seemed appropriate, because 1) I was going to church, and 2) the bruise described in my last post was still very much in evidence. Despite my threats to make up some wild story featuring O. and a letter opener, I really didn't feel like answering questions about it.

So, as I struggled with these pantyhose, I realized that whenever I get a run, it is always in the left leg. How do I know this? Well, I put the right leg on first, and it's always fine, which gives me hope for the overall fitness of the garment. And then I put on the left leg and it's shot to hell. Because let's face it--the flimsier the pantyhose, the more money we have to spend on new pairs. Sometimes I think my cats climb into my lingerie drawer and claw the hell out of my pantyhose, just for fun. I mean, how else can you explain why the shredded pairs would be in the drawer instead of in the garbage where they belong? I mean, it couldn't possibly be that I threw them on the floor when I took them off, and then picked them up a week later and washed them and put them away...Oh. Wait...

As an aside, I hate the word pantyhose. It sounds...unrefined. But nylons sounds stupid and stockings sounds like the things that are held up by a garter belt, and I do not have enough time in my life to bother with those things. Hence the title of this post...and I know that doesn't really cover it either, but I just could not make myself title a post Pantyhose.

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