left the house this morning on a beautiful spring day. The first beautiful day of the season. As I walked merrily down the street, I began to notice that every woman I passed was wearing a light spring dress. You know the kind. The ones that cling in some places are flowy in others and are cut just above the knee.
As all these glowing tan gams passed me by I looked down at my cloth-covered legs and frowned. “Am I missing something?” I mused out loud to myself.
I heard a voice over my shoulder. “You didn’t get the memo.” I was startled and whirled around to find Mother Nature had crept up behind me.
“The memo I send out on the first nice day of spring every year. I send it to women everywhere, all over the world. It says, ‘Today we’re wearing dresses.’”
“Well, I didn’t get a memo.”
“I didn’t send you one,” she said matter of factly.
I was taken aback momentarily but managed to scoff out the word “Why?!”
“‘Cause you don’t wear dresses.”
I looked down at my sneaker laden feet. I wear dresses. I mean not a lot but still. I own dresses, and I’d like an excuse to wear them. Just because I don’t wear them often doesn’t mean I don’t wear them all together. It doesn’t help that when I do wear them people treat it like it’s some sort of national emergency. ‘Good lord she’s in a dress! Who died?‘
“Y’know,” I said. “I resent your exclusion of me, and I think you’re treating me like a stereotype. You, more than anyone, should know that all women are different. Individual and independent, and we’re allowed to change our minds. There’s no reason why I can’t go from playing baseball to wearing ballgowns if I want to.”
Mother Nature considered this for a moment and said, “You know, you’re right. And I owe you an apology. Next year, you’ll get the memo for sure.”
“Thank you. But listen I gotta jet, I’ll see you in about a week when you come by with Aunt Flow.”
“You mean three days, right?”