Or middle age. One can never be sure. But I sure goofed this week.
The Ladies Auxiliary graciously welcomed me to my father’s VFW Post. Not quite sure what to expect, I bundled my father against the cold, wind and rain. We are travel buddies.
Time was short that day. I selected an outfit with comfort in mind. Black heavy weight leggings. A reverse ombré sweater beginning in off gold, closing in deep brown. Square sea colored beads embellishing the neckline and sleeves.
Walking into the post is always a warm feeling. That night we were rushed, but I had valiantly covered my bangs against the inclement weather.
Bangs might work in Phoenix, otherwise known as the land of perfect blowouts. Out east bangs are a fashion emergency with a small margin of error. A low barometer is not my friend.
I gingerly cupped my forehead. Much like Mr. Trump might wish into the wind, I had dreams.
“Maybe they won’t curl up.”
As we walked slowly to the car I immediately corrected myself.
“You’re a goner. Frizz City.”
I reminded myself all was not lost. Bright pink lipstick had been applied. (And no need for a comb over. Small blessings.)
Behind closed doors I stood.
It reminded me of UD. How the sister of Pi Beta Phi opened their arms with tradition.
I was surprised to be given something to read.
Thankfully it was provided. There was much to absorb, much to say. As I started to speak I reached down for the book. I held it precariously with my left hand. Quickly my right hand was lowered.
Goof #1 of Many.
I wanted to slow the words down. The significance of the commitment so strong.
I’m softly repeating what is asked.
Perhaps not as quickly as required for the solemn occasion.
“Oh Mother of Pearl. You should be wearing glasses.”
Closer and closer the book crept up. First above my belly bottom, then my sternum. Eventually it was nearly beneath my chin.
As the book rose so did my voice in volume and confidence.
As one important officer switched to the next, I wanted to look up.
But see, there was a book. There were things to read.
Apparently I’m in need of my glasses at *all* times.
Right at the very end my chin rose. (I flipped forward to see if there was more content. I was still nervous.)
Finally I thought, “Oh. How lovely.”
I’m smiling. In very simple terms: This has made me happy. I know my father will be happy. A pin is exchanged.
Only back at my seat do I realize my hand was down.
The entire ceremony.
Fine, grant me this mistake. But mid-ceremony a gracious woman had to prompt me, “Stand behind the bible.”
See, I was a fish out of water. There were people. I was out of my element. Sometimes a girl appreciates her routine.
Or her glasses.