Ode To Stretchy Pants

Dear Stretchy/Comfy/Yoga/PJ Pants,

I love you. I love you, but it seems we’ve set an unhealthy example for my children who now will only wear comfy cotton stretchy-wasted slug pants. You have let me hide from my self the fact that my waste is expanding and testing your elastic limits. It’s easy not to notice when you wear clothes on a daily basis that have no boundaries. It’s a well-known fact, but for good reason! They fit the mini van better than my jeans or capris. Buttons and zippers don’t feel good when my gut flops over and rests there for minutes/hours at a time. Damn you to fabric hell!

I must now limit your use to a few times a week, as opposed to every damned day of the week. My daughter had a twister of a conniption fit this morning when I forced her ‘little’ three year old body into (size 6!) Levi Capri jeans.

It was like the exorcism of Gemma Rose.

I had to bribe and manipulate to get her to keep them on long enough to realize they were just pants. Soft ones, even! Not the cheap scratchy denim. These are top o’ the line consignment denim, man.

So it’s finally time to leave you on a hanger long enough to familiarize yourself with my closet and the other clothes not in regular rotation. Do not be confused by the closet. It’s where the date night/IEP meeting/bank clothes go when not in use. You will be put on something called a hanger. It is a tool that hangs you up off the ground. Enjoy the suspension above the heels and strappy flat sandals. There might even be dust. Do not fret. It will brush right off when I shake you out. The top of the dresser will miss you, but most of all, my ass will miss you. I will think of you often and see you sooner rather than later most likely.

Make friends with the sequined shirts. It’s the only time you will cross paths – in the closet.

Thank you for the added pounds and comfy sitting.

-Sarcasmica

 

and just as a reminder:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

….especially the shiny ones