Twinkletoes

Is there anybody there? Knock once for yes, twice for no.

I've been extraordinarily busy just lately, hence no posts for a month. I'm not going to explain why, I'm saving that for another post. Big news, but it can wait until I've crafted it into one of my usual masterpieces [cough].

Today I tell you about the time that my boss borrowed my socks which by a curious happenstance was actually today.

Picture this: he's in his office with the door closed because he's getting changed into his mess dress uniform because he's off to the big Airmen's Leadership School Graduation. Big party. Officer's Club. Lots of brass expected. Very formal event.

He cries "Oh My God!" behind the closed door. I shout "What?" he comes out and says that he didn't bring an undershirt. "Oh" I say dumbly, not much I can do about that since I'm not packing white vests into my supersecretary-almost-ready-for-anything handbag. Note to self, remember to pack a wife-beater tomorrow just in case.

He disappears again. "Crap!" He opens the door again "I haven't got any socks either".

Actually he's wearing socks but they're olive green and don't really go with shiny black shoes and Air Force blue trews. I jokingly offered him my socks and took off my boots to show him. "Jane, they're black! Will you let me wear them?"

Oh boy.

I splutter that I've been wearing them all day and they're, well, you know, sweaty. "That doesn't matter" he insists. I point out that they're err not actually a pair either. "Not a problem, they're black, they're fine. Give them to me". I comply and he returns to his office to dress.

A few moments later he emerged resplendent in his smart mess dress. He lifts up his trouser legs to show me the general effect and I almost die laughing over the fact that on one ankle he has in sparkly fake diamante the word "Foxy" and on the other "Star".