I doubted we were ever going to get summer this year despite all the warnings about global warnings. It has been a litany of cold; long, drawn out winters, hardly any spring and barely a few days of simmering heat. What was I going to do with my short dresses and shorts? So far, my husband had not panicked about my short shorts (I don't know what else they could be if not short). He's used to that. What a husband! But he did become alarmed about a dress I was going to wear for a party. Basically, the length of the dress caused the alarm; it was not like the Duchess of England's knee high length dresses. Being petite, I cannot wear and should not wear long dresses. I would disappear completely so the only solution to this height problem would be to give the world an impression of height with a short dress. Yes, it's important the world sees women preferably with some added height.
Along with the dress, I had to contend with additional heels as well. I don't know if the dress was bought for the heels or heels were bought for the dress. Basically both had to go together, one without the other would not have done it. If I did not wear this dress on this particular day, an opportune moment would have slipped by, my friends would have left for Texas and I would have been left with a dress and heels still waiting to be outed.
Husband: Is that what you are going to wear?
Me: Yes, what's the problem?
Husband: Oh nothing, only ...
Husband: How will you sit?
Me: Primary reaction, no words - open mouth, wide eyes, hands on hips
Secondary reaction, no words, mouth still open, hands holding head
Husband: You can't sit down!
Me: Should I just hang around the door?
Husband: Do whatever you want.
I don't know if my husband realized that this was going to be a small party where people sat, stood and sipped. I doubt any people would have been lying around on the floor with drinks or kabobs in their hands; it's not possible to interact in that state! Did my husband think that if I stood, everybody else would stand up and stare? Or did he expect that as soon as I sat down everybody else would go one step further and immediately fall to the ground and that's when the viewing would change! He was worried I might forget I had a dress and for no apparent reason would end up doing somersaults. He worried immensely about me in a little dress. So his solution: Do Not Sit!
But sit I did. Standing is the worst position for me. I invariably look for a place to settle in including the floor. With a dress on, floor was not a possibility. We are talking about eye level conversation here; we are talking about little dresses riding up a bit but hands being able to pull it down to a discreet level; we are talking about decent people sitting and having a conversation; we are talking about women having the freedom to wear shorts and dresses without having their throats slit and being accused of infidelity by the moral police; we are talking about husbands going cuckoo over sitting and standing in innocent-little-not-quite-white-dresses!