Today I witnessed the shortest skirt known to mankind. I'm pretty sure I was just a part of history and, someday, our children will read about that skirt in their textbooks and there, in the background of the picture, I will be. Wide-eyed and all. I wish I could have snapped a photo of this skirt to prove it to you, but it was a hit and run and unfortunately, I could not. I seriously cannot explain to you how short it was, I honestly don't believe you could even call it a skirt, perhaps some sort of strange underwear. I don't know. When I sent my mom a text informing her of this grandeur moment in time, (Yes. I text my mom. Quite often actually.) she asked where the picture was; after relating the tragic news that I didn't have time to collect evidence, the conversation carried on as follows:
Mom: Ahh...your ole mother would've taken one.Very inconspicuously...
Me: Haha like you did with the hippie in Colorado? Reeaaal inconspicuous.
Mom: Or like the bum in D.C...I'm a pro
Me: Ahh creeping. It's truly a hidden art.
Good ol' mom. I love her. =) Just so you know, the hippie wasn't subtle AT all. She grabbed my camera and very openly took a snapshot of him. I have to hand it to her though, getting the picture of the hobo on the side of the street was quite sneaky. She pretended like she was taking a picture of one of the guys who went with us in our group, even having him smile and pose, but she secretly zoomed in through the crook of his arm and captured a timeless photo of the only true hobo I have ever seen. Oh mother dear, how you've passed on your skills.