Watermelon Bust!

I'm in my "simplifying" mode again, so I'm trying to get rid of things I haven't worn in a while, many of which are tee-shirts.

I love tee-shirts. Especially used ones, washed so many times that they are almost threadbare. That's when they are soft, comfortable. And cool.

I have all sizes; the smaller ones are worn when I run errands, grocery shop, visit family. The larger ones are worn at home, writing, doing housework. And the super-size ones are designated as sleepwear.

Some I buy new; some were given to me. Suzanne frequently picks up one for me when she takes a trip, or gives me a stack when she cleans out her closets. And sometimes Pitty Pat gives me a few. (I particularly like her husband's cast-offs; they are very big, especially the UK tee-shirts.)

Others I buy at good will stores. Much to Bill's chagrin.

"Why don't you buy new ones?" he says, "You don't have to buy someone else's discarded stuff."

"Used ones are comfortable and soft. And when I get tired of them I can just donate them to the Salvation Army."

"Uh-huh," he said, "And buy more used ones."

Some are plain; others have lettering on them. I particularly like the ones emblazoned with the name of a city or state, or college tee-shirts, like the Oklahoma State University tee-shirt nephew Chad gave me. And the Lowertown Festival tee shirts.

I must admit, though, I have learned to look at what is on a particular tee-shirt before I wear it. Especially if someone is lurking around with a video camera.

A dozen or so years ago, I went to my sister Eva's law school graduation. Since a party would follow at Eva's house, we all took our casual clothes along.

I was in a hurry that day, as usual, so on my way out the door to go to the graduation, I grabbed a pair of jeans and the first tee-shirt I saw.

After we got to Eva's, we changed into our casual wear, and the party began.

Later in the evening, as three of my sisters and I were jabbering away, my brother appeared with his video camera. "Would y'all like to say something to your little sister on her big day?"

Ted focused the camera on each of us as we congratulated her, told her how proud we were, how much we loved her.

I thought no more about it, and the party continued.

The following Thanksgiving the family got together, and Ted had his camera with him. "Come on, folks," he said, "Let's look at the graduation video."

We all gathered around Ted.

First, there was Pitty Pat, wearing a neat Kentucky tee-shirt with a Cardinal on it; there was Mary Ellen, wearing a nice blue one, emblazoned with Made in the USA. Gina's was a lovely red, with no lettering on it.

Then there was me, in my aqua tee-shirt. And splayed across my bust, in huge letters, was WATERMELON BUST!

Needless to say, that one is no longer in my collection.