My wife seriously (and nearly completely) pantsed me this weekend!
I know I’ve addressed the topic of my pants on more than one occasion during this season but indulge me if you will for one final installment. As you may recall, I have been steadily setting aside trousers that no longer fit with the intent of donating them at the appropriate time. When I left the house Saturday morning to do my four miles Renee stated that she would be running some errands during that time including making a trip to Goodwill for a drop off. I knew what she was taking and gave my full and informed consent. I had saved a lot of smaller pants over the years as I grew out of them with the intent of one day being able to wear them again. I have worn them again, but I am not saving them any longer as they are now too big. I was told no fewer than four times last week by people around the building that I needed to change to pants that fit. That’s advice that is really much better received on the way down than on the way up (can I get an amen?). So, I’m now down to the last size of pants I own that don’t bunch up with a belt or “self-pants” without one (which, as I recall from Dress Code Jeopardy is a violation even more frowned upon than “leggin’s”). Next time someone suggests that I pull up my big boy pants and deal with something I’m going to tell them no…, I don’t wear big boy pants any more.