My parents are *still* trying to get a dress on me, talk me into getting an ‘age approriate hairstyle” [WTH is *that*??] and stop climbing fences, clambering over rocks, ‘wear sensible, modest shoes’ and the whole bit.
HELL NO!
I’m still skinny enough and limber enough to get away with it all so I bloody well WILL.
[if it weren’t for their incessant nagging, I never would’ve broken my “never get married” vow, either]
So, Nan...wanna go field herping with me or slip down to the crick so we can sit on the rocks midstream and watch the minnows play?
[hubby ‘dealt with that’ a few days ago for about 40 minutes until he started blowing the horn...hee hee...he couldn’t come fetch me because he didn’t know where to cross the crick without falling in and I was *just* far enough away to ignore his yells]
Sal “Problem Child” Amander
;]
The only good reason to put a dress on a girl is so you can take it off her later.