Hand-Me-Downs

Those born into a family large will know whereof I speak. Your chances of donning the newest clothes was very, very bleak! Alas, hand-me-downs became a tradition at our humble house. Being at the end of the clothes chain always made me grouse! I had the dubious honor of wearing things that were always patched. Color coordination was out of the question since nothing ever matched! The fedoras I wore flopped down over my very ample ears. I resembled a tiny Al Capone, embarrassing me to tears! The pants I wore were wrapped around me once or twice. "You'll grow into them", said Mom. "For now they will suffice!" The sleeves of the jackets I wore came nearly to my knees, Making it hard to find my hands to stifle an onrushing sneeze! The shoes I wore were usually two sizes too long and wide. I waddled like a wounded duck with every painful stride! The neckties I wore were of big brother's dreadful taste. Looped around my scrawny neck, they hung well below my waist! Teenage years flew by, a reprieve from this predicament I could see. The guys in Air Force recruiting posters looked mighty sharp to me! I enlisted anticipating wearing a snappy suit of Air Force blue, Only to be issued olive drab hand-me-downs from World War Two! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired © All Rights Reserved