Let’s allow for my being a bit slow and say I’ve been dressing myself for 68 years. Today was the first time I got hung inside a sweatshirt. I wish I could recreate it for you, but I might not get out alive a second time.
The temperature was in the low 40’s, so my choice of outerwear was the newest sweatshirt, one that I have loved and worn since last fall. Having already brushed my hair, I bunched the shirt up so that I could pop it quickly and easily over my head without disturbing the hair. I should have known better than to try to accomplish two things at once. One does not pull something over one’s hair and expect it to stay the same, except if you have a crew cut. I’d already put my arms in the sleeves and couldn’t find the hole at the neck. I’ll answer the obvious question without your asking – yes, I did start at the big hole at the bottom. Pulling back a bit, I saw sunlight and aimed my big head at it. My elbows were caught. Reverse. Why is the hood now in the way? Start again. Out of my mouth came the words that always denote my extreme frustration, “Come ON!”
John probably heard me in the next room, but he did the safest thing and laid low. If he had come in at that moment, he would have had to turn me inside out to get the shirt unstuck. The second time I pulled back, the sweatshirt was almost all inside out, and I’d lost my arms. Scissors crossed my mind, but with no visible hands, I couldn’t wield scissors. I couldn’t even pick them up. Somehow I escaped completely and glared at the shirt lying on the bed in a heap, inside out.
With gritted teeth, I said, “I can do this!”
Smart man that he is, John didn’t say anything when I went in the office and told the back of his head that I was ready to go walking.
“I got hung up in my sweatshirt,” I explained. “I didn’t think I was going to get out.”
If there were a snicker or a snort, the moving chair covered it. John had survived another extreme test of marital fidelity with flying colors. It’s a good thing I was successful, because John might not have agreed to lead this blind zombie to the creek and back, bound and gagged by a sweatshirt.
Mehrling Muse 
Been there and done that! Makes me so frustrated!
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I am SO glad I’m not the only one!
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I love it
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I bet that was a sight to behold! Glad you made it out alive.
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I didn’t write in the grunts and groans.
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Hahaha, LOL! You must’ve made a very funny sight, sort of like an octopus caught in a pup tent! 😀
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It’s too bad we didn’t know to record it.
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Thank you for the chuckle of the day! I got hung up in a TANK TOP just last week (no sleeves!) so I can completely relate. Somehow no matter how I tried to put it on, one of my arms wound up in the neck hole.
Clothes are hard.
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No! Not a tank top!!!! Thanks for a return chuckle.
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Oh, I’m talented that way!
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After a week in tee shirts I have reluctantly gone back to sweatshirts too. They are more structured and definitely have a mind of their own.
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I had no notice my sweatshirt was going to be obstreperous today. Seems to me there should have been a warning bell or gun shot before the altercation.
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Oh my goodness! This is hilarious! I can only imagine your hair after that wrestling match…lol.
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I didn’t stop to look at the hair, just clapped a hat on my head and stalked out of the house.
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You made me laugh with this post Anne 🙂
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LOL 🙂
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Anne,
This was so funny but your arms must have ached. I have on occasion squeezed by head through an arm hole with extreme difficulty only to find it belonged to my arm and not my head.
Susie
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I haven’t done that yet, but give me time.
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This made me really laugh Anne. I have also been “attacked” by my clothes. I have also tried doing the hair first and then sliding a shirt over my head. You would think after being on this earth as long as I have I would know that it rarely works! I think the worst thing ever was trying to put on one of those stretchy sport bras. My arms got stuck and it was the most claustrophobic feeling….I don’t think I ever did tell my husband about that episode. Needless to say that piece of clothing has been long retired!
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Your story beats mine, hands down.
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I am not so sure about that! I didn’t have my husband listening in to my dilemma!
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Laughing…I’m glad I’m not the only one who gets tangled up. My husband calls it ‘bungled up.’
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Nice phrase.
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This post made me smile. It reminded me of the times that I’ve tried on clothes in the dressing rooms of stores that were a tad too small. Sometimes I’ve wondered whether I would be able to get out of outfits without asking a clerk for assistance. However, similarly to you, I’ve always persevered and managed to escape from the misfitting outfit.
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Sometimes the dressing rooms are too small. You tug your arm out of a garment and find it has hit a wall, THUMP! Trying on clothes is dangerous.
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I’m so glad to hear that you didn’t have to get a sales clerk to help you out of recalcitrant clothing.
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Haha! John is a smart man indeed! I’ve also learned sometimes it is best not to say anything at all with my wife xD
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Sometimes silence is golden. You are a wise man, too.
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