My mom's legs.
Yep. I looked down at my short little underpinnings yesterday and realized that I've been gifted with mom's legs.
And no, I didn't get a leg transplant, although if I hadn't spoken with her on Sunday morning, I might have thought that we'd been the victims of a vicious limb switch. Actually, maybe we were - but at this point, it would be hard to tell. Other than the scars from her bilateral knee replacements.
Don't get me wrong - I love my legs. They're strong and healthy and so far, replacement-free. I can walk and run and work out with them, I can chase grandchildren, cabs and a 50% sale with them. I can show off my calves and rock a pencil skirt with heels, and of course, I intend to honor them by purchasing shoes for them with MFT on the TandL trip.
But I heard an ominous crackling in the right knee as I was doing yoga yesterday, I'm feeling a shooting pain down my left leg today (although that's probably a back issue - just another legacy from Mom, thanks!), and well.....the skin is starting to be ....let's just say - not so elastic. And there are little gifts from the years of sun that are NOT cute little freckles. And, there might have been some spiders leaving a few marks overnight.
Happy Mother's Legs Day!
Sighhhhh...(Leg twitter. Pulling on jeans. Heavy sighing. Dragging myself to mirror. Hey! Cheering up at the sight of nice, dark-wash jeans with peep-toe pumps - decent line, makes my legs look a little longer, a little leaner. Ignoring shooting pain telling me to wear sensible shoes. Oops. May need to quickly polish just big toes for shoes. Nope, doesn't work. Slumping into self-centered, inane worry, leg depression again.)