Rather be sassy than classy.

My mother always insisted that I be well-dressed. In spotless clean clothes. Of course, I thought that was silly. Didn’t matter if I had a spot on my outer jacket. But mother thought people would think less of me. If not immaculately dressed. And that maybe I had a poor upbringing. So that it would not only affect me, but her, too. Maybe that was it. She wanted to be known for raising a proper son. Well, turns out. I’m proper. In my own way. Doesn’t bother me one iota if people think I’m a slob. Really, I’m not. But I’m not meticulous about the way I dress. Or about the way I do almost anything. If my clothes get dirty, I put them into the wash. Sooner. Rather than later. And I take a shower every night. That’s good enough for me. I also have clean thoughts. A clean mind. But I can’t get through a day without accumulating a little bit of dirt. A spot here and there. And some of my favorite clothes are a bit shabby. Or out of style. But then, I set my own style. My own ways. Doing whatever makes me comfortable. I even wear headbands. When my Italian true love says that ain’t classy. Things is, I’d rather be sassy than classy. –Jim Broede