That wacky Ron from Retired In Delaware sent me a JibJab card which depicts me releasing my inner Britney in the video of “Baby One More Time“. I found the video to be both absolutely hysterical and, more than a little, unsettling. I can sing and the song is in my key but I’m not really a dancer. And I’ve long since resigned myself to the fact that I’ll have to postpone midriff shirts until my next life.
The pigtails, however….
A few months ago a local theatre group was having a costume sale and I spotted a bargain and snapped it up. I had to claw my way past the other shoppers; one Scottsdale dowager may have lost the sight in her left eye permanently but it’s her own fault for being older, slower, and coming ill-prepared for the harsh realities of shopping on the mean streets. What did she think this was, Barney’s?.
There were a couple of reasons why I just had to buy it:
#1. Harper’s Other Dad already has one, sans pigtails. We’ve talked so often (O.K., maybe never) about staging scenes from Die Walküre around the pool at parties. Another horned helmet would come in pretty darn handy.
#2. Who wouldn’t?
Maybe I’m going through an experimental phase. I’m growing the mustache back after having shaved it off a few months ago. Perhaps pigtails will be the new frontier of fashion.