Forgetting Something

A few Saturdays ago we were getting ready to go to a party. Lula was very particular about her party dress. And her party shoes. She spent extra time on her hair. Glossed her lips. Even packed a small purse. She hippity-hopped through the living room while I gathered up keys and bags. I had that Miss Clavel feeling that something wasn't right.

"Lula, are you wearing underwear?" I asked.

She took a flying leap down the hall and answered, "Almost."