How Pantyhose Wrecked the Car… or Cars

I know that to some, you think pantyhose are innocent.  But to any girl who grew up Baptist, you know pantyhose are truly evil and are capable of many wrongdoings.  Today, they wrecked my car.

It all started with a dress. My aunt and uncle gave me a new dress for Christmas.  When I opened it, I thought it was very cute. Then I saw the size.  I thought that it would be another item to hang in the closet and hope to wear sometime soon.  The other day, I decided I would see just how far I had to go before I would be able to wear the cute black sweater dress.  To my shock, it fit. It fit well.  It looked GOOD!  I danced about the house proudly.  My little girls liked it.  My baby boy told me I was pretty.  My teenager just shook his head like I was weird or something.

My only concern with the dress was the fact that it came to just above my knee.  I was not quite sure what to do because we are having this crazy winter and I wanted to wear the dress now. Julie told me the answer was tights. I told her that I do not wear those.  I definitely do not wear pantyhose either!  I wore tights a few times when I worked at Cathedral, but that had been a while. I cannot even tell you how long it had been since I wore a pair of pantyhose.  Those things are the devil!  She told me to suck it up and wear the tights.

Last night, I dug through the sock box under my bed and found two pair of black tights and one new pair of black pantyhose.  I was determined to wear my new dress.

I just have not felt well the last couple days and I could not seem to drag myself out of bed this morning.  I started the morning behind which makes me crazy.  Nothing was working right.  My hair would not do what it was supposed to.  The dogs were driving me nuts. I poked myself in the eye with my eyeliner.  It just was not going well.

I forgot to print words for the music. So, I was even FARTHER behind!

The car did not want to start.

I am finally ready to go, and I decide it is time for the final step- the tights.

I pull out the thickest pair.  Put them on.

I hate tights.

Then I decided to pull them up a little. If you a woman who has ever put on tights you know what I did next.  I grabbed the excess down farther on my leg and started to work it up my leg.  Well, my fingernail went straight through the knee of the tights.

The fingernails are a new thing.  I have been trying to quit biting mine.  I am a chronic biter, and I have tried to stop biting them a hundred times.  I do not do well with nails.  The little bit of nail that I have grown was deadly to the tights.

NO problem.  I have another pair. It is a small price to pay for those new nails! Those tights were old anyway, right?  Goodness.  They were probably two or three or more years old.

Next pair of tights.  A little more lightweight, but I should stay warm right?  I put them all the way on and then I realize that they had a hole in them BEFORE they were ever put away. Could it have been a hole on the bottom of my foot where it would not show?  or the top of my leg?  NO… right on my calf! 

On to the pantyhose.

I hate pantyhose.

I did not even get those pantyhose above my knees before I had a run down the front of my leg from my newly grown fingernails.

I was ready to throw things.  Luckily, pantyhose do not go anywhere when you throw them, so no one got hurt.

I told #4 we were leaving, and I stormed out of the house.  I threw my car in gear and CRASH.

JP had parked his van behind mine towards the end of the driveway.

I am blaming the pantyhose.  I am pretty sure it had nothing to do with my temper.


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Tancy Griffin

Tancy Griffin is a wife and mother of four wonderful children. Her husband Jeremiah Griffin is a church planter and pastor in Rockford, Illinois.

3 thoughts on “How Pantyhose Wrecked the Car… or Cars”

  1. Are you sure it’s not JP’s fault? I thought everything is the husband’s fault? So sorry my friend. I haven’t worn pantyhose in probably 40 years (yes i was a toddler the last time) and i will die before i wear them again, actually in my casket will be the last and that is only if Jon has time to run to Walmart to buy them for the undertaker. I won’t care at that point.

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