A SIMPLE SUNDAY MORNING

We don't wear dresses very often in our Age Restricted Community.  We've become a slacks and capri pants sort of population.  Comfort is our "later in life" mantra.  Most of us did the girdle, hose and high heel thing for 40 or so years, and we're done!

However, Sunday mornings present a conundrum.   Our Lutheran congregation, a fairly relaxed group of refugee Minnesotans, still has a tendency to dress, just ever so slightly, for church services.  That means I must spend Sunday mornings in our closet shoving hangers this way and that until I come across something I think is both appropriate, and hasn't already been worn three times in the past month.  Last Sunday I spied the dress BC bought for me last year.  It sports a "Lauren" label, which makes it unique in my closet and it's very cute, so I decided to wear it.  It's a red knit little number...boat neck, three-quarter length sleeves (the better to hide the hideous effect advancing age has on the upper arms), and just manages to skim the fat deposits growing every so slowly and steadily around my mid-section.

Much to my pleasure, not to mention relief, it still fit and I put the finishing touches on my face and hair.  I found earrings and bracelets and sashayed to the full length mirror to check my cuteness.  Whoa!  Yes, the dress fits, but it's a clingy number.  In fact, it's generating additional static with every breath.  We have a problem and BC is ready to walk out the door.  I need a slip.

Now, along with my Age Restricted friends, I wore a slip everyday from the first morning of Kindergarten to the last sip of wine at my retirement party.  I don't do that anymore, but a slip is definitely needed under this obscene and obnoxious dress that's delineating my thighs.  I own three slips...all of which, I learn, are much longer than my red dress.  I'm choosing the black half slip.  Let's pull it up a bit and fold the waistband over a few times.  Problem solved...no, wait, it's not.  The waistband of my aging slip has lost its elasticity (God knows I know what that's like), and three inches of black lace are hanging out under my pricy Ralph Lauren hem.

I'm in trouble.  However, since spending a few minutes everyday exercising my brain on Lumosity, I've become a critical thinker.  I will pull this slip up over my bra, which will be better for the static cling anyway, and my problem will be solved.  Excellent critical thinking, but essentially flawed because of the waistband elasticity situation.  Safety pins are in order. 

I'm now standing in my bathroom safety pinning a black half slip to my bra...to the front of my bra, one pin per cup.  I pull my dress back down.  The slip stays attached to the bra, the two safety pins located front and center (so to speak) don't seem to show...too much...and we're off to divine worship.

Whew...all is going very well.  We're sitting in our usual seats, uncomfortably close to the front (BC loves to be near the action), the slip is holding but I am suddenly frozen with fear.  What if I drop over in a dead faint in the middle of the service?!?  In this neighborhood, that is not an uncommon event.  Some good Christian congregant is sure to run for the AED (Automated External Defribrillator) and electrocute himself, as well as me, when he connects with the safety pins as he turns on the juice.  We would both light up like the Holy Spirit himself had suddenly appeared and my darkest secret would become fodder for cheap funeral jokes.

It was a long Sunday service.