Dec. 14: The parable of the pantyhose

This is *nothin'* compared to the damage we could do One of my prevailing childhood memories of church, besides giggling through the hymnal and falling asleep during sermons, is how frequently my sister got runs in her nylons. It happened almost every week. The reason I remember this is that the second that snag happened, time moved soooo slooooowly. Someone would finally give the closing prayer, and Kathy and I would grab Mom’s car keys, shove our way through the crowd in the foyer, and run down to our copper brown Ford Granada to yank and pull and tear her nylons to shreds. It was the very definition of excitement for us.

Sometimes she’d do this with a friend and wouldn’t let me play along, and that would totally ruin my day. But very rarely, I had a run in my nylons too, and we got to rip up both our nylons. This made for an extra-special Sabbath. Mom was never too thrilled that this activity made us so very, very happy.

Mom was one of those who stayed after church and found the weirdest people to talk to for hours and hours, while Kathy and I would wait for her in the car, slowly starving to death. We would beg each other to walk back into the church to get her, which was a problem if both of us were wearing shredded pantyhose. We’d sit there dreaming of the day someone would finally invent the cell phone so we could just call or text Mom to PLEASE OH PLEASE LEAVE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE WE’RE ABOUT TO DIE FROM HUNGER.

If Kathy was here in person with me right now, I think I’d probably have a hard time keeping her away from my head. As of today, my hair is coming out in chunks with even the slightest of tugs, and I’m sure—like a hair-hungry school of piranha—the two of us could make me look like Grandpa Saltmarsh within minutes.

 Grandpa and me, before I looked so much like him

But instead of getting dirty looks from Mom, we’d be getting them from Victor. He’s not happy that I’m fascinated by the disappearance of my hair. Hey, it doesn’t make me happy either, but it’s an unfortunate fact of my life. And my cousin Deanna is right—at least I don’t have Saltmarsh ears. Yikes. [shiver]

Fancy Lori made me the coolest hat/hair/wig thing. It looks like this…

…but it’s a much prettier color and I completely, totally love it. The timing could not be more perfect, Lori. Thank you!

If you see me in the next week or so, I will probably ask if you want to pull out a chunk of my hair, especially if Victor’s not around to disapprove. It’s kinda cool, in a weird and wrongly inevitable way. Ye be warned.

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7 comments:

  1. Shredding pantyhose sounds like tons of fun...something my sister and I would have done, had we thought of it. As it is, the only similar type excitement we had was peeling off each other's skin after bad sunburns.

    And the man (it had to be a man, right?), who invented panyhose should be shot in the head.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jen...you have just given me my first laugh of the day and I've been furiously keeping an eye out for as many as I can:))

    Your following statement is priceless to me and with your permission may find it's way to my fb page one of these days...(of course, with credit given:))

    "If you see me in the next week or so, I will probably ask if you want to pull out a chunk of my hair, especially if Victor’s not around to disapprove. It’s kinda cool, in a weird and wrongly inevitable way. Ye be warned."

    I'm finding strength in your blog and Im thankful for that:) Thanks!!!

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  3. lmao now that sounds like one heck of an exciting childhood hobby. :)

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  4. You didn't say. Were the pantyhose you and Kathy wore the ones that came in the orange pouch (can't remember the name!) or the Leggs that came in an egg? ;)

    xoxo

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  5. And to think of all the money your dad and I spent on toys at Christmas--we could have just bought cheap pantyhose and you and Kathy would have loved us forever!!

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  6. lmao now that sounds like one heck of an exciting childhood hobby. :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Shredding pantyhose sounds like tons of fun...something my sister and I would have done, had we thought of it. As it is, the only similar type excitement we had was peeling off each other's skin after bad sunburns.

    And the man (it had to be a man, right?), who invented panyhose should be shot in the head.

    ReplyDelete

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