I can't be sure, exactly, but I think I suffered the ill-spoken of malady of forty-something year-old women, the unmerciful hot flash. I've always heard that hot flashes can happen at any time, anywhere, and that they are entirely uncomfortable. What I experienced fits those criteria.
It happened when I was walking from my car to the door of the grocery store. I'd been to a DAR meeting and decided to grab a few things before going home. I was wearing a skirt that hits just above the knees, strappy wedges, and a 3/4-sleeve blouse with shirring through the bodice, an outfit I adore.
Dropping my keys into my purse, I looked up to meet eyes with a man in his mid-thirties walking in the opposite direction. I'm not ashamed to say, by the way, that his approving appraisal did a lot for my ego and sent a shiver of I'm-still-pretty down my spine.
Naturally, the shiver caused me to straighten my posture
. . . which unfortunately caused my right foot to errantly step on a stray rock,
. . . which resulted in my right heel slipping off of the tall wedge sandal,
. . . which sent me wobbling through a clumsy adjustment to catch my balance.
The man, very gentlemanly jumped into action. He grabbed me by the elbow to assist me onto the curb, then asked, "Ma'am, are you alright?"
That's when it happened. Sixty seconds prior I was hot, and then - FLASH - I wasn't anymore. I was ma'am to a thirty-something year-old. And very uncomfortable.
It happened when I was walking from my car to the door of the grocery store. I'd been to a DAR meeting and decided to grab a few things before going home. I was wearing a skirt that hits just above the knees, strappy wedges, and a 3/4-sleeve blouse with shirring through the bodice, an outfit I adore.
Dropping my keys into my purse, I looked up to meet eyes with a man in his mid-thirties walking in the opposite direction. I'm not ashamed to say, by the way, that his approving appraisal did a lot for my ego and sent a shiver of I'm-still-pretty down my spine.
Naturally, the shiver caused me to straighten my posture
. . . which unfortunately caused my right foot to errantly step on a stray rock,
. . . which resulted in my right heel slipping off of the tall wedge sandal,
. . . which sent me wobbling through a clumsy adjustment to catch my balance.
The man, very gentlemanly jumped into action. He grabbed me by the elbow to assist me onto the curb, then asked, "Ma'am, are you alright?"
That's when it happened. Sixty seconds prior I was hot, and then - FLASH - I wasn't anymore. I was ma'am to a thirty-something year-old. And very uncomfortable.
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5 comments:
Been there, done that!
My son laughed at me when I'd run out in the snow in shorts and a T-shirt!
I'm not sure if this is funny or not: Is the hot Mama laughing?
Oh, my! I can't help it... I'm falling about laughing!
I think you got it all wrong, Lucy. That boy was so overcome by your heat that he didn't know what he was saying.
Anyway, I always addressed women of any age that I didn't know well as Ma'am until I got to be about 50. I believe that most well-raised southern boys do that. It's a term signifying respect.
Eventually it evolved into Young Lady. Come to think of it, most of them seem to react a lot better to that. Knowledge and wisdom come with age.
Keep up the good work,
Earl
Y'all are all so kind.
Mike, your tentativeness is appreciated.
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