Shock Treatment

I have marched the decades and in reaching the 7th one found some startling results as life has played its tricks on me. One of the latest caught me totally by surprise.
I have lost 55 pounds in the last two and half years and just kept wearing my in-grown clothes until they began to fall off. The extra room allowed for comfort for my aching bones and I was fine with the baggy look, even if my husband wasn’t. He wanted his old girlfriend back and I knew that wasn’t going to happen. This new slimmer body did not bring back youthful features and that’s a fact. Even though I weighed what I weighed many moons ago. But I found a box of my older clothes that had somehow escaped the trip to Second Blessings.
Slam, bam, thank you ma’am life popped me in the eyeballs one day in the church restroom. I was wearing an outfit that was slick as grease and in great shape when it was pulled from storage after a 30 plus year rest. I remember wearing it and taking in a few good stares from my husband, who threatened not to let me out of the house. It was very modest, just sharp. The colors were pleasing and went well together and hung nicely on my more youthful body of those days.
This particular Sunday I had rushed to get ready and probably had not even looked in the mirror to tame my fluffy white “big hair.” I made it on time but had “to go.” As I opened the church restroom door the wall-to-wall mirror greeted me with a full image of “Who in the world is that in that mirror?” My spontaneous proclamation as my mouth fell open in surprise, brought attention from every lady in the room. As I shrank into the stall I realized what I had said, and knowing my big mouth realized that it was maybe heard in the vestibule and possibly the Sanctuary.
I had a long session at the toilet, hoping that the room was vacated and the service had proceeded, I could slink into the service unnoticed, red face and all. Then my husband had to ask, “Are you OK?”
“Sure, I am, just a little shock treatment.