Questions from Mars

“Where’s that tennis skirt you used to wear?”

Why in the world would he ask that???   The man amazes me.    Let’s see now…I have not played tennis in probably 30 years.  Is he thinking that I’ve simply misplaced the skirt in a wrong drawer or something?   I had the little tennis panties, too,  and a racket and yes, I even played occasionally with friends who didn’t play much better than I did.   It didn’t occur to me to have the skirt bronzed.

It was not the best time for him to ask such a question.  Not five minutes before I’d put on summer dress thinking that I could handle its  just-above-the-knee length, but when I looked in the mirror,  I was wearing my mother’s knees.  When did they come aboard???  Being in my 60’s  is as full of oddities as living in the 1960’s was.  The surprises just keep coming.  Last week I was brushing my hair and there was Diane Feinstein staring back at me.  HUH? 

At this stage of life and body, I couldn’t get anything larger than my elbow in those  bloomers and if I still had the skirt, I’d have to wear it as a collar.  Maddenly but endearingly, my Martian husband really believes that  if I lost a couple of pounds, I could still slide into that tennis outfit.    Hah!  Not even if we called in the Army Corp of Engineers….

We are in different worlds when it comes to clothing.  As I’ve said before, he keeps clothes forever and still has the same body  he had when we married.  Seams don’t pull on his clothes, pants don’t get rump-sprung.  An occasional  hole in a sock is about as destructive as he gets.  

Last week we ate lunch at an Intracoastal restaurant and my husband wore a t-shirt asking folks to vote for our friend Martha  for Town Council.    The restaurant manager eyed the shirt and said, “I don’t think you’re going to get many votes.  I don’t even know where that town is.” 

That’s okay because the election was in 1996.

Martha won the election –several terms–with t-shirts to spare and when I told her that DB was still wearing that old shirt,  she said there were probably a few more in the bottom of her cedar chest  that she’d give him.  

“Better be careful,”  I told her.  “He’s liable to get you a few write-in votes.”

She says he can have the shirts, but she asked me to please give him this message:


That’s how my mother’s knees and I feel about tennis.  Even if outfitted, I will not serve.  Or volley.


7 thoughts on “Questions from Mars

  1. LOL…Picturing you with tennis skirt around your neck..
    Husband are from Mars..
    Wonderful story again…loved how you tied in the if elected I will not serve story..
    You are a wonderful case you didnt know already..tee hee

  2. I loved this post. As we prepared to move (2 years ago) I did not find any of my tennis skirts. But I DID find my lovely wooden Billie Jean King tennis racquet…not the over-sized supers of today…the oval one with catgut strings.

  3. LOL….. those “where did that come from” questions they ask can always come at the best times… never fails. I’m still laughing so hard at Diane Feinstein….. lol!! I used to play tennis (a lot, good player, 30 years ago or more.) Told someone I’d found my first tennis racquet not long ago (like NC mountain woman, it was a Billy Jean King tennis racquet – OLD one – wooden) in the attic. Friend said “GOOD! we can play some tennis when I get there.” I said oh no we can’t. Anna Kournikova was no where to be found up there!

    “Rump sprung”….. teehee …. you’ve made my night! See you soon again!

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