I’m not going to complain about the arms that come with my almost-six-foot frame. They are long enough to hold all that is my life. They reach to the highest shelves. They keep me from looking like a tyrannosaurus rex. And I’m thankful.
But the shirt sleeves that start out too short and then shrink another inch every time I put them on?
Grrrrrrr.
This morning, I was desperate for the feeling of fabric reaching all the way to the base of my hand. Or even up to my knuckles. Seriously. So I dug into the unused regions of my top dresser drawer, found a pair of thick, black, stretchy tights, snipped off the toes, chopped off the top, and pulled the legs onto my arms.
Ahhhh.
When I put on my cardigan, my sleeves didn’t disappear above my elbows. When I felt chilly, I had plenty of sleeve to cover my wrists. And when I shared my secret with R-girl, she couldn’t even see where shirt ended and tights began.
Oh boy. I hesitate to call this life changing, but it is winter changing for sure.
Sometimes happiness is just a few inches away.
by julie rybarczyk
