Finally, an explanation I can live with
Dec. 27th, 2006 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trystinnColor me flabergasted. I'll set the scene:
I'm slowly moving about the house getting it ready for the dedication ritual later tonight. I'm not stressing because my dear friend Ruth gave me great advice about not getting all OCD over the state of the house (which can clearly be summed up as being somewhere between "dear Gods don't let my mother drop by unannounced" and "the govenor has called out the state guard"). I'd just lit our ambiance candles, otherwise known around here as "element candles for dummies", and set the CD player to play "The Hunt for Red October" soundtrack softly in the background and returned to the living room.
Danielle stares. Josh stares. They stare some more. Finally she speaks: "You should wear stuff like that more often". I look down confused. I'm wearing a brick red GE golf shirt I got from my mother, a pair of jeans I've snatched from the hubby's closet severely belted because they are too big and my Yule mocassins. "You mean preppy shit like golf shirts?" I ask. She nods, hubby nods, I'm confused. "Why?"
"They make you look yummy" was the unanimous response. Realization creeps up on me with all the subtlety of a Friday night hookup. Oh dear Gods - I'm the Preppy Priestess.
*headdesk*
I'm slowly moving about the house getting it ready for the dedication ritual later tonight. I'm not stressing because my dear friend Ruth gave me great advice about not getting all OCD over the state of the house (which can clearly be summed up as being somewhere between "dear Gods don't let my mother drop by unannounced" and "the govenor has called out the state guard"). I'd just lit our ambiance candles, otherwise known around here as "element candles for dummies", and set the CD player to play "The Hunt for Red October" soundtrack softly in the background and returned to the living room.
Danielle stares. Josh stares. They stare some more. Finally she speaks: "You should wear stuff like that more often". I look down confused. I'm wearing a brick red GE golf shirt I got from my mother, a pair of jeans I've snatched from the hubby's closet severely belted because they are too big and my Yule mocassins. "You mean preppy shit like golf shirts?" I ask. She nods, hubby nods, I'm confused. "Why?"
"They make you look yummy" was the unanimous response. Realization creeps up on me with all the subtlety of a Friday night hookup. Oh dear Gods - I'm the Preppy Priestess.
*headdesk*
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 12:30 am (UTC)