I used to lay down on the bed years ago to get my zipper up if I had eaten one too many cookies the night before. Now, don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. You've more than likely done it yourself a time or two. I'm happy to report however, that I don't need to do that now. I found myself some bigger pants. Ha.
This particular situation was different. My brain kept telling my fingers to put the button in the buttonhole, but my fingers had a mind of their own and decided to do their own thing. Isn't that just like Parkinson's Disease? You decide to go one way and your feet go another. You decide to pen a note and your fingers say, “Not now, dear.” You thought you were in charge and when Little Monster came to visit, he not only stayed but also decided to take over.
My fingers decided to do what they felt like doing and today, they felt like taking the day off. I ended up laying down just to get the fabric to lay flat so I could try to maneuver the button into the hole. It only took six tries, but I did get it in. It was a major accomplishment and I stood on the top of the mountain with my flag of victory.
I had a choice. I could get frustrated and end up in tears with my pants falling off and feeling sorry for myself. Or, I could be determined to not allow this unwanted visitor get the best of me and be thankful I could still try to put on my own pants.
I chose to be thankful. But I've got to tell you—I did think about those polyester pants with the elastic waistband thta used to be the in thing forty years ago. They're actually becoming somewhat appealing. Almost.
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