Do you know why grannys wear grannypanties? Because grannys are SMART. Grannypanties (yes, I shall make it into one word) are great. They don't ride up or roll down or scooch over. You don't have to worry as much about VPL. (Tangent: Is a "visible panty line" really a problem? I mean, is it somehow shocking to people who can see your underwear line through your pants that you are wearing underwear? Is this one of those things that women say is their issue but really it was created by men so they can live with the illusion that all the women in their eyesight are walking around without undies? I think so.) Grannypanties are a perfect pairing of form and function, so perfect that only the elderly and wise are assumed to be wearing them. So I'm staging a grannypanty revolution! Who's with me? (Probably not my husband...)
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I went to the National Western Stock Show this past weekend (my little sis Olivia was in town) and there was a guy protesting outside with a sign derriding the animal cruelty at the show. He is probably vegan and considers anything but lovely long lives with quick-in-their-sleep-no-pain deaths to be cruel for the animals. I would disagree. The ranchers at the stock show are the cream of the crop when it comes to raising animals. They love their animals. They treat them well. These aren't the guys who have factory ranches with animals bred to hell and back. These are the guys who have been ranchers for generations. Who tend to their flocks or herds or heads every day, with their sweat and passion the only thing keeping them from going under. I'm just sayin. These aren't the guys who are "cruel" to animals. Sure, they eat the animals. So do I. But I'd rather eat an animal that was raised well and respected for its place in the world.
I love the rodeo for the same reason. It's not cruel. It's not like the circus. The sports the rodeo showcases are borne of actual ranching activities turned into competition. (Maybe not bull riding.) Those ranchers have to know how to ride horses, and rope calves, and tie them down for a minute. They have to know how to break a horse, bareback or saddle riding, and hold on. Maybe it's my western side coming out, but I like the heritage showcased in the stock show and the rodeo.
Long live the wild west.
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Why working is awesome:
When I am at home, I get to be a tiger, a baby jaguar, Diego, DJ Lance, a blueberry bush and a mountain. But what I don't get to be is still. Or quiet. Or relaxed. Or calm. I do get to be happy, amused, loved, and needed. I do not get to be rewarded for my work, appreciated for my intellect, or conversed with in multi-syllabic words.
But at work...well, work is like a dream land. It is quiet. I can close the door without little hands who just figured out they can open doors doing just that. I can go to the bathroom without yelling out, "I'll be done in a minute! Just hold on!" I don't have to wipe anyone's bottom (well, my own, but I'm OK with that) or break up dog fights or clean up spilled milk or keep little toddlers from actively trying to kill themselves. I don't have to decifer games of imaginary orange picking from games of imaginary animal rescue. At work I can choose what I do and when I want to do it, for the most part. I can eat with adults, or all by myself, and I don't have to worry about jam-hands ruining my shirt. To be fair, no one tells me they love me lots or giggle uncontrollably when I say the word "butt," so there is that downside.
I'm just sayin. Staying at home with your kids is exhausting work. Going to an office where you enjoy your work and your colleagues and your company is a whole lot easier. So I guess I took the easy way. THANK God.
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Butt. (Now cue the uncontrollable laughter.)
2 comments:
My husband laughs uncontrollably when he hears the word "butt" also. So bonus for me. He laughed really hard when he heard of a lady whose last name is "doody" I kid you not. My kids think "quiet time" means mom takes a nap while they watch tv...because I am smart.
I so appreciated your thoughts on the National Western. Seeing as though I grew up doing the whole stock show thing- cattle and sheep- I know how babies these animals are. How many hours dis I spend bathing a clipping and combing livestock? I can't even imagine. What I learned along the way is priceless. Hard, I mean really hard work. Making sure that cuts heal properly or that calves are bottled fed on their schedule, never yours. Being outside with these animals in frigid temperatures to ensure some lunatic doesn't "free" them from their "wretched" lives. All these things made me so fully aware of the food I eat that being wasteful is not an option. Literally there is a ton of human blood, sweat and tears that goes into that burger, just as there is bovine.
God bless you for your astute observation. (as always)
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