the dress

One of the things about island living is that when your kid has a sports competition in another county, it involves an airplane, hotel, and $250 that you could have spent on groceries and opera dresses.

So the teenager is going to the Big Island to battle robots, and I have a dress budget of... nothing. I can afford some panty hose, maybe. That's a good look. Very post-modern. I could probably pull it off with a lot of eye makeup and some stark dance poses while I sip my refreshment at intermission.

ANOTHER BUD LIGHT, in your fanciest plastic champagne flute, barkeep

When I explained the dress situation to my mother while visiting last weekend, she said, "Oh, here, I got this at a consignment shop in Indiana last summer," and like some kind of wizard she pulled a garment out of her bag of holding and tossed it at me.

look at the beads on this thing.

all I've got in my bag of holding are some markers, a can of chicken, and a couple of books

And even though we are different sizes, the dress fits both of us - in the manner of some enchanted, possibly haunted artifact. Dean Winchester is probably going to come charging through the crowd to rip it off of me and burn it in a ring of salt before the second act. If he gets past the Librarians and the guys from Warehouse 13. (Great Scott, my references are OLD. Who are the youths watching nowadays for their supernatural artifact disposal needs? I don't have cable anymore.)

SHUT UP, DEAN

So that promises to be an exciting evening.

Now I just need to find a strapless bra that won't slither down around my middle. GLAMOUR.