Nobody, not even Henry Higgins...

could make a lady out of me.

About an hour ago I got home from the fields and jumped in the shower. I washed my hair, bundled it all up in a towel, threw on a comfortable (read: horribly unflattering) house dress and sat down to write a thank you letter to my great uncle (to that extent I am a lady). Upon sealing and stamping this letter I headed out across the street to retrieve the day's mail, and put my letter in the box. As I stood at the side of our busy road chatting on the phone with my mother I spied the vet, my dad, and his employee standing at the barn door talking. I laughed to my mother that I could not possibly look more absurd with my towel, flip flops (now am I talking about shoes or my unharnessed chest, because I swear I'm too young for this?!) and comfortable house dress.

Little did I know...


I crossed the street with no mishap, and as I grabbed the mail and reached up to insert my letter two giant trailer trucks blew by just feet from where I stood. It was the end, I tell you. I dropped the phone, and nearly dropped the mail as the wind from the trucks blew my towel tower over, my skirt flew up, and tried to rip my letter from my hand. My mother called to me from the phone in the grass, asking what happened. I tried to pretend it was nothing and no one had just seen my bare bottom, but as I turned around to cross the street again, towel hanging limply from my shoulders (along with my pride. Oh and speaking of hanging...can we talk about the girls again?), the employee was waving from the barn with a ridiculous grin on his face.


'enry 'iggins, do your worst.