Same song second verse. A little bit louder & a little bit worse.

It was a cold day just a few weeks ago and right after my 50th birthday.  I’d worn a pair of tan pants, a brown sweater and scarf to the office.  It was a cold day, and warm clothes were key to comfort.  Sometime mid-morning I thought, “I don’t remember buying these pants.”  A little while later, I had a memory that the other tan pants I did remember having had a different waistband and were a little shorter.  I’d been a bit annoyed at their “high water” length but noticed the pair I had on this day were actually plenty long.

When I got home and changed into a pair of sweats, I threw these pants down the clothes chute.  A couple days later my husband Keith said, “I can’t find my new pair of tan pants anywhere!”

“WHAT?!  When did you buy new tan pants?” I asked, horrified at what Keith’s question likely meant.

“When I bought myself a new pair of jeans,” Keith told me,  not nearly as worked up as I was at that moment.

I told him to check the chute.  When he found the pants, he confirmed thIMG_4497ey were his, and then I came out with the story of how I’d worn these pants and racked my brain trying to remember when and where I bought them.  We laughed until we cried.

In my defense, Keith had hung his new pants on my side of the closet.  That made me feel a little better.  But only a little.  (A):  How could I wear my husband’s pants?  And (B):  How could I not realize it when I was getting dressed in the first place?

After that, Keith hung these signs on our closet’s center post:

I have a job in which I need to do a fair amount of public speaking.  When I write out a presentation, what drives me crazy is the very first sentence.  What will I say that paves the way for the rest of the message?

I’m a first-time blogger, but it wasn’t the first blog that was the hardest.  It was this second one.  I’d been thinking about that first blog for awhile, composing it in my head.  It felt like the story that needed to go first.

But what comes next?  It seemed right to let you know that sometimes I’m just plain weird.  And so is my life.

When we encounter people the second (or third or fourth times) how do we give them the chance to surprise us with the stories they tell?

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5 thoughts on “Same song second verse. A little bit louder & a little bit worse.

  1. Here is advice I got when I had to blog for a course – sit down with a glass of wine (or 2) and just write. It helps the flow! πŸ™‚ PS – you should not be buying pants that could be so easily confused with Keith’s. πŸ™‚

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  2. I have a pants story as well. I was a teenager – a few years back and had gone out shopping with Mom- spending some of my hard earned cash. I purchased a wonderfully comfortable pair of corderoy pants. The next day Mom commented “We will have to get a green shirt to go with your pants”. Green shirt??? “Why a green shirt?” I asked. “To go with your green cords” she responded. All I could say was “oh”. Color blindness had struck again.

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    1. I love it! Our family has stories about color blindness, too. My dad, son and a couple cousins are color blind. One of our Sunday morning rituals was Dad approaching one of us kids with two pair of socks in his hands, wondering, “Which ones are black?”

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  3. Lisa, I can hear your calming voice as I read this story. What a gift you are! You go girl!!! We’ll work on wardrobe choices the next time we’re together. πŸ™‚ Over a glass of wine, I’m sure.

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