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Monday, July 23, 2012

WHY I HATE SHORT PANTS Repost

image courtesy photobucket.com

While I wear long pants both winter and summer, many guys will wear shorts.

I was about six years old before I graduated, that is I graduated from short pants to long ones.  As soon as it was warm enough I had to put away my knickers and don the shorties.

It has been suggested by some, that mothers forced their boys to wear the short pants because they were easier to wash and dry. This was when everything was washed by hand on a wash board. While most boys were subjected to this sissy wardrobe some guys graduated earlier than others.

Seeing boys the same age as you wearing long pants was really a put down. Now boys have disagreements and trying to stand up to a guy with long pants while you were in shorts was embarrassing.

Before I made the transition to long pants being naughty was a bad thing to do. The reason for that was the fact that there were bushes growing every where that provided switches for discipline.

Echoing in my ears, I can still hear the words my mother would say “Go out and cut me a switch.” 

I knew that the switch was going to be used on me and with nothing on my legs but short pants the switch marks were a sure sign I had been punished. Every place that switch touched it would leave a red welt and I would sting for hours.   Usually I had a collection of both old and new ones.

I recalled my dad was going to take me to a ball game, I was about six and I very excited.  As it happened shortly before it was time to go I broke the rules and had to pay the penalty for it. I knew better but did it anyway. A few minutes later my legs looked like plaid. There were welts running in all directions.

Then it was time to go to the ball game, and I was really embarrassed for everyone knew I was disobedient, and had been punished. I lost all interest in the game all I could think about was how my legs looked.

Finally the time came when I got my long pants, no more shorts, no more knickers and no more welts showing for the pants covered them.

I still was as ornery as ever but my legs were covered up and the welts didn’t show.

I knew they were there, but my sins weren’t evident to the world any longer!

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This post has been linked with Joan Davis at: Sharing His Beauty
Also shared at: “Tell Me a True Story” http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/


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