After quitting my job in cosmetics for the second time, I never got around to giving back the long black jacket that was my uniform. The first time I quit, I took the jacket back. A year later when I asked for my job back, it was still sitting in the back closet and I'm pretty sure my nametag was still pinned on. So I was in no hurry to return the jacket when I quit again last summer.
Well, yesterday my eight-year-old sister and I went rummaging through all the closets in the house to get her enough dress-up clothes to fill a tickle trunk. I saw the jacket and announced that with it she could be a lawyer, a cosmetician, a scientist or a pharmacist. When she was excited about all the possibilities, I took the jacket off the hanger for her to try on.
Left forlornly on the hanger were my favourite black pants -- a pair I'd been grieving for since I first noticed their absense. They still fit as perfectly as I remember. Guess if I keep someone else's clothes, it's only fair that mine should be lost too.
After my sister has one last fun time doing scientific experiments in the jacket, I'll have to take it back to the store.
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3 comments:
oh, bugger 'em.
better off with lil' sis anyways, who knows, chick might end up thankin you for it in her nobel prize acceptance speech.
'and i'd like to thank my big sister, who first put me on the path to science......'
got your pants back didn't ya? see? slate clean.
shanti shanti.
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