So in my first post I alluded that my blog is about life and I can guarantee that over the next few months there will be more than several posts about my life surrounded by my darling daughter moving off to college.

But there is more… so much more.

So many topics to talk about. There are several posts already brewing. Some of my drivel will hopefully make you laugh until liquid spews from your nostrils. Others will pull at your heartstrings, subject to you having one. While there will be some that may have you scratching a bald spot in your hairline pondering the reason for the universe.

My promise is to always try to be respectful of my audience and entice you to come back for more. Nevertheless, I cannot guarantee that all the topics of my posts will be lady-like, genteel, or overly cultured. Case in point…

A situation occurred not too long ago that made me reconsider the split between what is appropriate and what isn’t. In an age of acceptance and diversity, sometimes there is a struggle on the great divide. But I get ahead of myself –

For clarity lets admit that there are the naive few who have never heard the term “camel toe.” We aren’t talking the two toes of the infamous humped horse in Arabia (although proverbial camel toes are not biased to heritage). We are talking pant cleavage, lady Gaga, panty floss, or my bestie’s rendition – the great zoo escape! Yep, I grew up with four brothers so I have heard many more terms for what has to be an extremely uncomfortable physical position.

Imagine…… cold, rainy, Wednesday in a public place easily visible to a small stadium of people at any given time. An associate beckons good morning from less than a stones throw away. As I turn to reciprocate the greeting, I first notice she recently had her hair styled. It looked nice so I told her so without a second thought. Next in the nature of being female, I observe that she is wearing a cute top and her traditional black pants. That is where it stops. I went speechless. I said nothing. ME – absolutely dumbstruck! Anyone who knows me, knows that is quite a feat (no pun intended).

Immediately I realize I am doing the whole “mom” look! Unconsciously driven by embarrassment she does not yet have, my eyes take on a will of their own. Eye contact then her crotch…. More eye contact, transition down to the crotch…. This time I peer firmly into her eyes doggedly trying to telepathically relay the message as I feel my brows raise then furrow and then my eyes revert back to the crotch. All of this in what felt like years of well thought out coordination. When in fact it took no preconceived thought and was accomplished in a painstaking 30 seconds or less. So much effort to no avail as she never recognized the hint.

Bless her heart!

This poor girl’s pants were not just mimicking the relationship between a flip flop and a megalithic tumefying toe, they had taken on the role of the alphabet and without any exaggeration she was educating anyone she came in contact with… t, u, v, W,… Googly moogly the entire zoo was making its way out the gates…. The Walruses, Woodpeckers, Wolfs, Whales, and Wombats were literally busting the seams!

As a woman, I cannot imagine not realizing that part of your body has been snatched into such an uncomfortable situation. I now grasp Jack Finney’s 1957 inspiration for his novel “Invasion of The Body Snatchers!”

The questions to ponder are many. Like should we mention the cat’s out of the bag? Share that maybe the tiger needs to be tamed? How can a female not be aware of the ox hoof making tracks in plain view? Is it appropriate or acceptable for one human-being to tell another that a defining moment has unintentionally occurred?

While you mull over the most infamous of questions – Should we or shouldn’t we? – let me clarify that my writing this blog does not negate the answers to the question. At the end of the day there was no self reflection in the full-length bathroom mirror as Alice never caged the white rabbit.