Saturday, May 9, 2015

The Pit of Despair -- Oh the humility of it all

This morning I had one of those moments of realization wherein my cheeks flush red at the same time the light bulb in my brain flashes yellow. 

As I was getting in the shower I noticed that I had quite a bit of growth in the armpit area.  I had planned to shave it the day before but was in a hurry.  At the time I thought, "No big deal.  I do have Zumba class tonight, but no one will notice me in the back row. It can wait a day."  I always wear a tank top because I can't stand to have hot shoulders when I sweat. 

So, no problem except the teacher asked me to lead the cool down song.  A worshipful, lyrical song that involves lots of plies and sweeping arm movements.  In fact, for the majority of the song, my arms were stretched overhead or out to the side.  My pits were revealed in all their black, stubbly glory for a full 3 minutes, elevated above the class. 

The song goes like this:
It's your breath
In our lungs.
So we pour out our praise, we pour out our praise.
It's your breath
In our lungs.
So we pour out our praise to you only. 

The class members were probably thinking:
There is hair
In your pits.
So we avert our gaze, we avert our gaze
There is hair
In your pits.
So next time we will buy you a razor.


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