The Battle but Not the War

Don’t tell my mom, but it looks like I’m going to have to buy panty hose.  

There has been a long-standing battle in our house: Mom vs. Meghan. For years, mom has insisted that I wear panty hose with skirts and dresses. For years, I have frowned, rolled my eyes, and told mom that I would rather freeze in sub-zero temperatures than wear panty hose. “Ladies,” my mother says, “wear panty hose.”

I’m pretty stubborn. So is my mom. Every once in a while she’ll buy a nice pair of nylons and place them on my bed. Most of the time, I smile and tuck them into a drawer. It hasn’t gotten that cold. Over the years this argument has continued, but it has lost a lot of its original heat. Sadly, after today, it looks like mom might have (temporarily) won.

You see, today was Sunday, and today was also the first day that Heidi and I worshipped at a Slovak Lutheran Church. We were a little nervous and very excited to meet part of the Tisovec community. We woke up early and carefully picked out our clothes. Heidi and I were both decided to wear a nice skirt, shirt and sandals. Our clothes were clean and well-ironed. We both even put on jewelry. At about 9:15 we left our flat with English Bibles in hand, wearing clothes that we thought were perfectly appropriate for church.

Yet as we walked into church, a returning volunteer named Rachel looked took one look at us and pulled us aside. “In Slovakia,” she told us, “women are expected to wear panty hose.” Immediately and self-consciously, Heidi and I began looking around. Every woman in sight was wearing flesh-colored panty hose. Well, darn. Looks like I’ll be going to the store.