Whenever I am stupid enough to buy pants or jeans or without them I could kick myself. Where did that term come from? I guess you could kick yourself with your heel. But not me. First of all is the fear of dislodging my hip. Dr. R would really be pissed at me. Then, there’s the fact that I don’t think I could bend my knee that much either. Oh. Wait a minute. I have two legs. No. That’s not going to work either. I would still have to stand on the crappy leg to do all this. So. Where was I going with this? Does it really matter? OK. After three years of laying in my basket, I finally put pockets on my pink shorts. Oh, yeah. One sock is finished.
Tags: pants pockets
Up a Creek in Lower Slower Delaware 