T shirt?

Tee-shirt?

Even though I was an English major in college and I’m starting an M.A. in English come August, I’ve never really known whether it’s t shirt or tee shirt.

Oh well.

Over the summer when I was in NY, I came across a white tee that had a picture of a sad panda bear drawn in a cartoonish hand on the front. Emblazoned across the chest were the words “I wish I was colorful.” Just to pour salt in the wound of the cartoon panda, the word “colorful” was in rainbow colors.

(cue the sad trumpet)

The shirt and the panda immediately struck a chord with me, because I have always wanted to be colorful. I have always wanted to look like the brown girl that God made me, but unfortunately, my sister stole all the brown in Chi-Chi’s uterus and so I’m Little Miss Pale Face in my family. When I tell people I’m brown, they turn their heads to the side, narrow their eyes and say, “Really? But aren’t black people…black?”

You logical little racists.

Actually, black people come in a variety of shades and hues.

It’s how we infiltrate your ranks white people…muwahahahahaha!!!!

Sorry, my evil genius gets the better of me sometimes.

In all seriousness (yeah, right) some of us are what you call “high yellow”, but we’re capable of tanning.

When I saw that panda shirt, I bought it as fast as my debit card would allow. It’s been in my circulating wardrobe ever since. I don’t get to wear it as often as I’d like because tee shirts are not proper big girl attire at my job, but I can usually rock my panda shirt on a weekend or in the evening after work.

Yesterday, I was in Publix wearing my favorite shirt, when something wonderful happened.

My uncle asked me to pick up some Redi-whip for him (I have no idea why) so on my way home to pick up some more clothes and say two words to He-Man and Chi-Chi, I stopped at Publix to pick up his whipped cream. It was the only item I needed, so I went through the 10 items line. The cashier gave me a pleasant smile, but then starting staring at my chest. At first I was very concerned, but then I realized she was reading my shirt. It took her about five seconds to read my shirt and come back with, “Yeah, but I hear it’s not easy being green.”

(cue the angelic harps)

Is it wrong that I praised God for that cashier at that moment?

I praise God for any person who can whip out a Kermit the Frog quote with the speed of a ninja.

That cashier made my week. My whole week.

Advertisements