I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
August 20, 2010
>Dear Mom-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named,
I’ll be the first to admit that it’s heartening to see a woman who finds the time and energy to take care of her body, despite the demands of children, a husband, and a household. I really do admire the fact that while most of us are tearing off to work, late again because little Maisy couldn’t find her art project, or cleaning up the mayhem of our kitchens after getting three kids off to school, you are out for a morning jog through the subdivision. That shows discipline, my Pilates-addicted friend.
But did ya have to take your shirt off?
I mean, I’m sure you worked very hard to get that six-pack you proudly flexed as you bounced your way through the neighborhood. And that lovely fake bake no doubt cost a significant amount of your hard-earned time and money. That is, I’m assuming, why you clearly wanted to show off as much of your skin as possible.
I just question whether that flimsy excuse for a sports bra is really appropriate attire in a family-friendly community. Particularly when it’s filled to overflowing with so much cosmetically-enhanced material.
I’m sure it was mere coincidence that you opted to go for a run at the hour that every man in the subdivision was driving to work. And surely all that makeup was simply left over from the night before, when you no doubt were accepting an award for all the charity work you likely do for the poor.
Come to think of it, maybe you were so distracted by trying to come up with a solution for world peace that you simply forgot to put your top on. I could see that. Besides, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt- even when their lives seem to be nothing more than a perpetual audition for Real Housewives of Nashville.
That’s why I thought I’d send this neighborly reminder your way. Put your top on, dear.
Before I shove it down your throat.
xoxo,
Lindsay
**P.S. Before the comments from concerned and alarmed readers start appearing, please be aware that this particular post was intended to be humorous. Also, the runner in question was witnessed not in my neighborhood but a friend’s, so no one got hurt in the writing of the post, EXCEPT FOR MY PERMANENTLY-SCARRED EYES.
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