Not the Shirt Off My Back but Close...

So my sixth grader stressed about her school musical.  She needed a pink shirt. She happens to own several, but needed a plain one.   We got her the shirt.  Her stress was such that she forgot about the rest of the costume.  She needed a pair of jeans.  She was wearing shorts. 

I'd brought them to the school early, grabbing prime seats for Anna, Regina and me, near the principal and his wife.  After a quick stop in the ladies room to rescue Rita, I found a friend of mine on the faculty and begged her for a sweatshirt, a sweater, anything.  The gym is pleasant enough in the spring for a concert, a bit cool if  you're watching in shorts.    Mercifully, she lent me a black shawl.  I sat and pretended, "Everything is awesome." 

My daughter told me afterwards, "That was more uncomfortable for me than for you."
I'll let her reevaluate that when she's the one wearing gym shorts some place other than the gym at fifty-one.