I think you kids are being way too generous. I look exactly like Tony Soprano except my legs are skinnier. My face could use a good waxing. But maybe the chemo will get rid of my facial hair when my head hair goes. Fingers crossed!
Today I took my stomach and together we risked our health with a trip to the Mall of America. Mondays are the least populated at the MOA. Even during random spring breaks, the crowd was light and nobody sneezed or coughed in my face.
Also, I purelled my hands about every 10 minutes and made sure to never touch my face before purelling. And I did not poop on my hand and then stick my hand on my eyeballs. I should be okay.
I tell you what, people, I’ve got a whole closet full of shirts with darts. What am I going to do with all of those darts? I’ve finally started trying on more of my clothing and now I am stuck with about ten blazers that I can’t wear, for the darts. I’ve got a bunch of blouses that I can’t wear because of the darts. I once had to sew an article of clothing for home ec that had darts. And I knew then, even at the young age of 15, that darts were not my friends.
Which is why I convinced my grandma to finish my home ec project for me. Me and grandma, we cheated.
Here’s my little cheater of a grandma. She’s about 93 in this photo. She was, by this time, living in a nursing home. Notice the make-up and the nice clothing and the coiffed ‘do. She was always dressed up. And so very sweet looking.
Ha! Probably right before this photo was snapped, she’d been causing trouble in the nursing home cafeteria. She was so naughty, they finally put her in a table, facing the corner because she’d snap at all the other residents about their horrendous eating habits. I swear to you. One time she told me about one of her table mates “I can’t stand to look at her! She shovels food into her mouth like she’s a cow!” And you know that she made sure to tell that resident exactly how she felt.
Which is where I got my inability to bite my tongue. Well, that’s the excuse I use in my head.
I found 5 shirts, sans darts, to get me through until I go out the next time and shop again. I almost wrote “until I am done with chemo and can get on with the rest of my life!” but that is way too dramatic and totally untrue. Because I could run right out again this afternoon and shop for more dart-less shirts if I wanted. Fickle me.