Marty and I were invited to a croquet party at a friend’s house the next town over. The invitation said, “Please wear all whites.” This was serious stuff. Marty and I went out in search of white shorts for him and found them at the golf store on our first stop. I had numerous selections of whites from which to chose for myself which is one of my many problems but doesn’t rate high on my list – closet space.
When I got dressed and put my white Enzo sandals on, my eyes kept straying onto my pink patent-leather flats. I just couldn’t conform. I flipped off my white sandals and put on my pink patents.
When we got there, I put my rebellious side away, and, ut oh, my competitive side came out. But I restrained my competitiveness to between me and Marty. I think I had already shaken some people with my cackling laugh and home-grown backyard croquet rules.
Bottom line is that you can dress me up in whites but I still can’t be totally proper. I was still a barrel of laughs.