Today I was accused of being too young to have ever worn pantyhose. I cannot remember how we got on this topic but my answer was “yes, I have worn pantyhose. Still buy them in a shade of nude, but I avoid wearing them when possible.” Pantyhose is not a word I like using. Can’t the company think of a better name? Spanx sound like a way of saying pantyhose. What about the word “tights” – I think we should call them tights for now. Which reminds me of this Six Feet Under episode. I am so glad I’m not required to where pantyhose. Where was I? Oh yes.
Remember Leggs Eggs? That whole conversation got us on the topic of Leggs Eggs. My mom used to wear suits to work everyday (she was a network analyst at one of the largest banks in Omaha) which meant she was always buying pantyhose. I’d get so excited because I like to play with the Leggs Eggs containers. One year she tried to tell us the Easter Bunny hid messages in the Leggs Eggs to help us find our Easter Baskets.
“Mom, you and the Easter Bunny have the same handwriting,” I said.
“Well, he’s a bunny, he doesn’t know how to write,” she said.
“Does he also wear pantyhose?”
I can’t remember how she answered that one. That Easter “the bunny” wrote messages in her Leggs Easters and led my brothers and I (I think I was 10) all over the house looking for the pot of gold in our Easter Baskets. I was quite fond of Peeps and malted milk balls and needed that sugar fix before we left for Mass and the mass gathering of cousins, aunts and uncles at my grandparent’s house.