Compression Socks and Pants
I love history. It was my favorite subject in school. It is the only thing I read today. OK, that was not a true statement, I also read Spacebook. Where else can I go to find photographs of what you are eating at restaurants that I’m not at? If I were with you I could look across the table and say, “Wow, that looks good.” Since, I’m not with you, please keep posting pictures of your plates and I will at least enjoy the photograph.
While I have totally drifted off the subject, let’s talk about Spacebook. Things I also enjoy on Spacebook are political commentary, videos of old rock concerts, animals doing crazy things, and compression sock ads.
I don’t usually like to wear socks, (Is that too much information?) but, these compression sock ads on Spacebook get me to want to buy them for every occasion. Did you know compression socks cure everything? And they’re expensive, too! Ten pairs for hundreds of dollars. Of course, the more you buy, the more you save! (I’m not sure how that works, but they say it does. I said I liked history, not math. We will get back to history in a minute.) Spacebook guarantees these socks are worth every penny. If you suffer from hammertoes, get compression socks. Heart disease? Compression socks. Tooth ache? Compression socks. Acne? Compression socks.
If I sparked some interest in you looking for compression socks, please be aware that Monner’s Mumblings does not support any products in these stories. Well, that statement is not true either. Monner’s Mumblings supports and endorses all yarns sold at Your Daily Fiber, especially Dyed by Darrell yarns. If you are buying compression socks be prepared to use your charge card and make monthly installments unless you buy lots of them and then they’re cheaper.
Back to history!
I have spent my adult life teaching my children (both batches) that the study of history is not learning about old things. It is learning about achievements and mistakes. History provides us with info for when we come to a fork in the road. History for good or bad will repeat itself and does. History repeated itself this past week.
I was reminded of an achievement/ mistake that concerned Elaine while she was in high school. Elaine was raised in a military family. I can’t call it strict (because it wasn’t) but her father had very militaristic ideas about clothes. Captain Dave spent most of his life in uniform and expected his children to be well dressed also (at least Elaine).
Sadly, Elaine and I were of the Woodstock generation. Our style of clothing did not match Captain Dave’s. Captain Dave once told Elaine, “If you bring home a long–haired boy, I will kick you both down the driveway.” Of course, I had long hair. We planned my visits to Elaine’s home when Captain Dave wasn’t home. That’s what teenager’s do! Captain Dave and I eventually came to love each other, I can’t remember if it was before I cut my hair.
Elaine towed the line with “her” choice of clothing, always neatly dressed. At least that was what Captain Dave thought. Elaine had this pair of worn out jeans complete with leather patches and holes. She loved those jeans. Being of the Woodstock generation she wanted to wear them to school. Captain Dave forbade wearing them.
Elaine got creative. She left in the morning with those jeans in her car. A few miles down the road she would stop and put on her favorite “Woodstock” jeans. Captain Dave never caught on.
This week, I returned early and unexpectedly from my construction job. Girl Twin was at the store when I arrived. She greeted me and welcomed me home. I didn’t feel welcomed, I felt blindsided. I haven’t been able to take her to school recently.
Girl Twin was wearing a shirt with spaghetti straps. I could see her belly button. She had ironed all the curls out of her hair. Her pants were totally worn out in the “Woodstock” era. The pants had more holes than fabric. I immediately became Captain Dave.
Me: Did Grandma let you buy those clothes? Girl Twin: They aren’t my clothes, the shirt is Eva’s and pants are Rachel’s. Me: You are wearing someone else’s clothes? I’m calling Grandma! Grandma: Mind your own business, that’s what kids do. Me: Have you seen her hair? Grandma: Stay out of it. Me: Didn’t you learn anything from your dad? This is wrong! I can see her underwear! Grandma: I’ll talk to her.
History repeated itself and Elaine let it!
Our crazy lives!