Saturday night was my little birthday gathering at the bar up the street from my house and in my dramatic need to overdress from the movies, much less my own birthday, I donned a very practical Ralph wrap dress and gave myself what John deemed, “Marlo Thomas hair.” My beloved BFF Melissa was running late, so no one was there to point out to me that there was a hole on the knee of my black tights until I noticed it the second I was about to run out the door.
So, in a moment of what I decided was MacGyver-like brilliance, I grabbed a Sharpee and colored over the hole in my tights, blacking out any skin within 2 or 3 inches of said hole.
That gigantic black dot now remains on my knee apparently forever. I’m one step away from some Soft Scrub and a lighter. And I’ve discovered today that there are a million better excuses for a big black circle on one’s leg than “I had a hole in my tights and decided instead of changing them to color all over myself with a Sharpee.”
Next time, I’ll just forgo the tights all together and draw them on…