Dress for the zoo

I am with my new beau and we are visiting his family.

I am in the bedroom I am sharing with him. Not what you think, you and your lascivious thoughts. We wear pajamas. We are both thinking about not wearing pajamas. But not yet.

His family is getting ready to go to the zoo. I am not sure I want to go and then I do want to go. But I need to change into clothes! Not pajamas. I look in my suitcase. I put on a tank top, since I've decided that I hate the strap around the chest of bras, and then a pale yellow t-shirt. I look in the baggage. There is a pale green silk skirt. Wrong color. Too dressy for the zoo. There is another silk skirt, pale ecru, with pleats, longer. No, again, too dressy and anyhow, awful with the pale yellow. There are some very ratty old khaki shorts that I love that are older than me. Too ratty. I am dithering. I remember that I have a second suitcase and yank it from under the bed. I've been here for nearly a week and haven't used anything in the second suitcase. Why did I bring two? I feel that I am stupid and resolve to bring less when I fly back east to my son's. Less baggage.

Meanwhile I find a denim overall dress that I love. Short but not too short. Neither too dressy nor too ratty. I pull it on. It has a smaller version of it and I start to pull that over my head. I realize that the tiny one is for a doll. Why would I have a matching one for a doll at my age? I drop it back in the suitcase. I grab leggings in case it gets cold and I need a jacket. The beau is returning to the room and I have a moment of panic. I have clothes all over and I want it neat and back in the suitcase and I brought too much. I am going to tell him that I do want to go to the zoo. I start folding the clothes and neatening them away.

I wake up.

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