Hurrah! The end of May at last. But I must admit that I did enjoy the challenge. Post #31 in the Blog Every Day in May Challenge, 250 words or less. Prompt for May 31: A vivid memory. 
On a hot summer day, the preacher who was holding our “gospel meeting” stopped to visit. Daddy was working in the fields, but Mother and I welcomed him. We sat outside where a cool breeze helped to counteract the heat.
The adults had lawn chairs and I, age 8, sat on a large oak tree root while my little brother played nearby. I listened and occasionally participated in the discussion, enjoying every minute.
But I did not enjoy the conversation that followed his departure.
“La-NEE-ta BRADley!” she said. “I know your aunt Mina gave you those shorts, but I am telling you here and now that that is the last pair of shorts you will ever wear. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life—the preacher sitting right there and you sitting with your knees up so he could see your panties. How embarrassing! Go take those shorts off right now and put on a skirt.
“And never let me see you in shorts again.”
Meekly I complied.
Recently I was around a girl who was wearing short shorts and I also observed how much was revealed as she bounced around—only being girlish, but still showing more than was modest. I was reminded of this incident.
My next pair of shorts was the summer I worked in Washington, D. C., ten years later.
And it was probably 40 years later before I could comfortably wear even knee-length shorts around my mother. She didn’t seem to notice.
Mother and 6-year-old Lanita where story took place
