Dear friends, do as I say, not as I do. If you are leaving the house to run errands, don’t forget to brush your teeth and hair. And check to make sure that you remembered to get dressed in the first place. Especially if one of those errands happens to be a trip to the Department of Motor Vehicles to renew your license. Even more importantly if said license requires a new photo.
No, I am not that senile yet. I do, indeed have a birthday coming up this month, and it’s a big one, but I don’t think brain cells abandon ship as a unit. There is a reasonable explanation. I blame my long underwear.
It is December, and it’s cold. The temperature dropped so low last week that my tomatoes almost froze. As I am sure all of my Christmas-tomato-farming friends are aware, that’s pretty chilly, so it only makes sense to wear long underwear under my pajamas. And there’s the problem. Long underwear is fitted and hugs my legs. Like pants. So my coffee-deprived brain is tricked into thinking that I have already gotten dressed. And as it is never good to over-think going to the DMV, the moment the reminder to renew my license popped up, the kid and I jumped in the car and left.
It was when we were getting out of the car that I finally noticed my attire. Old t-shirt, thermal top with a large rip in the elbow, pajama pants. I was horrified. Let the record show, I don’t leave the house in an elastic waistband unless I am going to exercise, and most of the time not even then.For me, elastic is the beginning of a slippery slope that starts with comfort and ends in polyester stretch-pants. I am not ready to go there yet. But as we had already made the trip, I decided to bite the bullet and go in. I figured that the old picture still looked enough like me that it would serve another 5 years. They could photo-shop in some crows feet and a few more gray hairs and be done with it.
Sadly, I discovered it is not possible to reuse the old photo if you go to the office in person. Surveying my reflection in the window, I was very, very sad. I wanted no photographic evidence of this moment at all, much less one that I would have to show every shop clerk on the planet for the next five years. But there is goodness in the world. The merciful clerk looked me up and down and suggested that I renew online.
I wonder if something like this would happen if I wore footie pajamas?