On Monday, after the dark of the night had covered the land, the fair brown eyed girl returned home from another practice of the dance with an important message for her furiously writing mother.
“Mother dearest, Coach requires us to obtain a uniform for dance and we must gather these things before Thursday or all is lost.”
“Dear child, I will help you in your quest but as I must labor in the bookstore all Tuesday, all must wait for Wednesday to arrive. What exactly do you need?”
“I desparately need the following: a plain white T-Shirt and white tights–”
“Not a problem”
“Two gloves. One blue, one white.”
“Harder, but not impossible as mitten season fast approaches. Anything else, dear daughter?”
“A pair of blue sophie shorts.”
“A pair of what?”
“Sophie shorts.”
“Shorts in winter? This will be difficult. I cannot guarantee it will be done but we will try.”
Wednesday arrived, cool and clear. The mother awoke early and appealed to Sir Google for more information about these so called ‘sophie shorts.’ Sir Google returned with the kind message that the correct spelling of said shorts is SOFFE. He also reported that through the magical window of the laptop, soffe shorts could be purchased at two stores that have smaller outlets in the mother’s small town.
The mother used the communication device known as a telephone to speak with said stores and discovered, as she had worried might be so, that they had clearanced out said soffe shorts to make room for winter clothing.
The mother at the suggestion of the increasingly desparate daughter then called the Mart of Wal and asked them if they perchance had a pair of Soffe shorts. The kind lady who used the communication device had never heard of such an item but they did indead have shorts for the purpose of exercising in.
Mother and daughter got in their Mobile of Old and journeyed to this Mart. Purchases for dinner must be made and two birds could be hit with one stone.
Alas! The Mart had shorts in the color of grey and for someone twice as big around as the fair daughter. Daughter pointed across the road to a large red Target. “Mother, perhaps if we hit the target across the road with our mobile of old, it would open and inside might be a pair of shortsof Soffe.” While the target was opened, no blue shorts resided inside. To home they returned.
Again using the telephone, the mother called her sister who has some expertise in the matter of clothing for dancers and cheer persons. The sister suggested a gymnastics establishment and so they were duly contacted and again no luck.
The search for Soffe Shorts was not going well and time grew short. Appointments were scheduled for the evening and the clock ticked ever closer to those times. A trip to a studio of ballet netted the information that it were possible the Big 5 which sold goods of the sporting variety might have said shorts. They were located within viewing distance of the boutique and the Mobile of Old was put into service once more.
The search of Big 5 took several moments. They did indeed have shorts of all varieties and sizes and colors. The mother was beginning to think a substitution could be had. And then, in the very back, at the very bottom of a rack of other clothing (not far from a display of the speedo for men) a row of shorts could be seen. A row of shorts with a little tag hanging from them that simply said, “SOFFE.”
And there was much rejoicing. “Yay!”
