Polka Dot Shorts

Polka Dot Shorts.

I have to tell you all about this ! I can’t keep it to myself.

I was MAGNIFICENT !

I had a great piece of material – white, with large pink polka dots – just enough to make a pair of shorts. I made them.

The sun was shining, I had finished my housework. I thought I would sit in the front garden and enjoy the summer day. Within two minutes, a car pulled up and out stepped my daughter, with my 10 year old grandson in tow. She walked towards me. I got ready to smile.

Then “Mom, those shorts….do you think you should….I mean….the neighbours ?”

I looked down at the shorts. They were well made, I’m a really good dressmaker ! The pink polka dots had just the right touch of femininity. I was pleased with those shorts.

I looked down at my legs. Let me tell you, from the knees down I have a pretty good pair of legs. The flesh above the knees has sagged a little, and try as I might, I just can’t seem to get it to hitch back up, but on a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give my legs a 6.

“What’s wrong with the shorts ?” I turned aggressive.

“Well, it’s not exactly the shorts…I mean….the shorts are very pretty.”

“So – say what you mean !” I was defending my anatomy here !

“Well…I guess they look O.K.” I had her on the run, she was backing down !

“Do you think I shouldn’t wear shorts ?” My voice was getting louder.

The best form of defence is attack !

“Oh Mom, it’s not that….it’s just….your legs.”

I looked down again. “What’s wrong with my legs ?” I stared her straight in the face.

She spoke quietly “Well…they look…kinda…kinda…old.” Her voice ended in a whisper.

That did it.

“Stand back !” I shouted. “Make room, I’m gonna show YOU something !”

“Oh Mom NO !” She shrieked in horror, her eyes darting up and down the street in front of the house.

For those of you who don’t know it, I was a pretty good dancer in my time ! I could spin and rock with the best of them. I had considered my legs to be one of my greatest assets….and now I had been challenged ! I’m not one to back down from a dare !

“Mom, that isn’t necessary !” She was trying to stop me !

“Get outta my way…I’m coming through !”

And I did it ! I started off slowly, but within a few minutes, I was in full swing ! My splendid legs, in all their glory, shot out in front of me, and with a will of their own, they Can-Canned as they have never done before. Out and back – up and down they went. I couldn’t stop them !

For a full five minutes they did their stuff, and I even managed a curtsey at the end.

My grandson stood with his mouth wide open. “Gran….that was amazing ! You looked like a dancing girl from Paris !”

There you have it ! Out of the mouths of babes !

A loud cheer came from the road in front of the house. A team of 5 young men had been fixing the sewers in front of the house next door. “Go, Granny, go !!!” The men clapped loudly.

“Oh, heavens, no.” My daughter was mortified ! “I should have kept my mouth shut.” She mumbled under her breath. “I should have known you would do something like that !”

I felt exhilarated, liberated, intoxicated. Sure, I was breathing pretty hard, and I was a bit shaky on the pins, but I had done it ! No-one tells me my legs look old and gets away with it !

She won’t do that again !