The Inside Is Outside and I Cannot Find the Door. So went a “poem” that one of my college roommates claimed one of his former roommates wrote for a class assignment. That’s it, that’s the entire poem. You gotta love the 60s, right?
But I was
reminded of the poem today when after my wife gave me a haircut, I shook out my
(otherwise clean) black pull-over shirt in the shower stall, even turning it
inside out to shake out any loose hairs. Then I put it aside while I showered, shaved
and dressed. I apparently forgot to turn it back right side out because when I
went back downstairs my wife pointed out that I was wearing it inside out.
“Your seams are showing,” she stated matter-of-factly. After confirming she was totally correct
(she usually is), my only possible response
was “That’s the story of my whole life!”