On Motorhead

Let me preface my near disastrous morning story with a story. For Valentine's Day, my wonderful husband bought me a t-shirt. I was pregnant at the time and just threw said t-shirt in the top of the closet and never really thought anything else about it. I maybe wear a t-shirt a 4 times a year and I'm not a fan of a large graphic print.

But he bought me this t-shirt because it had a picture of Lemmy from Motorhead playing the bass on the front. And hubby knows that if there is anything in the world I love, it's an ugly bass player. I'm pretty sure Lemmy has the market cornered on ugly bass players. Geddy Lee comes in a close second. And God help me, I love them both.

This morning, after a collective hour of sleep, I was getting dressed to take Jay to school. I decided to throw on my Motorhead t-shirt and some pants because I was too tired to care what I was wearing. Plus, it would make Micah happy that I was finally wearing the shirt.

Let me say now that I don't just pull up in front of the school and drop Jay off. I get out of the car, walk through the school, passing many teachers that have known me since I was Jay's age and usually stand in his room for a few minutes before going outside. This is important to the story, I promise.

God was watching over me this morning. Because in a move very uncharacteristic of my normal getting dressed routine, I turned the shirt with the back facing me for a second before I pulled it over my head. And that's when I saw it. There was no way I was wearing this shirt. There was some mighty graphic language on the back of said shirt.  I would have probably been asked to remove it when I walked into the school. Yeah, it was that bad.

After I put the shirt back down on the bed, I called Micah into the bedroom. I yelled, "I can't wear this shirt." and he looked at me like I was nuts. I then asked him to look at the back of the shirt. He swears that the display only showed the front and he simply grabbed one in my size and walked to the register. So neither of us were smart enough to unfold the shirt anytime in the last 3 months.

Now, if you are offended by f-bombs and the b-word, please stop reading this post now. Because I am about to post a photo of the shirt just to make the point that I could not wear this thing. I am not usually offended by strong language, but OH MY!