Truth About Trousers

Emily

Mary

The two sisters were both loving and caring. Hardworking and generous. But there, the similarities ended.

One, Emily, was the elder. A tall, spare, maiden lady. Teacher. At times, self-professed critic.

The other, Mary, a shorter, rounder, mother of numerous children. Full of good humour and good conversation.

Emily lived with their mother in the city.

Mary, with her husband and children in the country nearby.

Mary had stopped off at her mother’s home for a short visit. Wearing—gasp!—trousers.

Something Emily had freely admitted in the past that she heartily disapproved of.

The sisters met as Mary strode down the hall toward the kitchen.

Okay, I wasn’t there, but I’ve heard the story and I think it went something like this:

Mary: Hello! I’ve dropped by for a visit! Is Mother here? (They always called Grandma ‘Mother’.)

Emily: Hello! It is so nice to see you. And yes, she is. She’s in the kitchen. (Emily and Mary had their differences in life callings, but they were always affectionate and friendly as sisters.)

Grandma enters the scene here and the visiting continues for a few minutes.

Until . . .

Emily: Mary, you’re wearing trousers.

Mary: Yes.

Emily: I really don’t care for trousers.

Mary: I know.

Emily: Mary, those trousers made your backside look big.

Mary (cheerfully): It’s not the trousers, Emily. My backside is big.

Emily: Ummm . . .

I mean, how can you respond to that?

I don’t want to make Emily look bad here. She was a kind person, who just happened to disapprove of women in trousers. Particularly her sister whom she loved.

But I’ve just decided. When I grow up, I want an attitude like Mary’s!

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