Comfy Pants

Who? Us? Cause trouble? No way!

Everyone has a pair of favorite pants. I'm speaking about comfortable favorite pants, not the pants that aren't so comfortable but make you look like a movie star with mile-long legs the size of toothpicks. The first kind. The comfortable kind.

Yesterday, I ripped my favorite pants. I was sitting at my computer, trying to find out if I could get tickets for Wicked this fall in Boston, and suddenly Nicholas ran into the room yelling "Nathan's outside! Nathan's outside!"

I do not ever remember a time, when I was small, when going outside was a big deal. We just opened the door and went out. We played out there, and then we came in. I don't know what it is - the kidnappers and molesters that now lurk behind every bush, the dangerous equipment we tend to keep these days such as lawn mowers and rusty nails, or perhaps it's just the busy street in front of our house and the fact that there is a brook out back buried somewhere beneath the weeds. Whatever the reason, it is a huge deal for my kids to go out and play in the back yard. Even that requires sunscreen, bug spray, adult supervision, a couple of shots, and a few signatures from lawyers.

In any case, I freaked when Nick told me this, and ran to find that Nathan had simply gone out through the front door, which we had propped open to let a little air into the house. Actually, he had pushed himself through the screen. Being slightly larger than he is, I couldn't bring myself to do this. But the door itself was locked, and I couldn't open it. All I could do was yell and watch as Nathan turned and ran from me.

When I finally opened the door I quickly caught up to him, scooped him up, and marched him back in the house. I was furious because I had been frightened, and also our screen door was now ruined completely. And then...

And then I fell. With Nate in my arms. I tripped over a step or my own feet and fell in the doorway, landing smack on my knees, which was very painful. Not to mention that the screen door was still broken, and that the Wicked tickets were ridiculously expensive, and that we were going to have to keep the door shut from now on no matter how hot it got. And then I looked and saw the rip in my pants, MY FAVORITE PANTS!

Now you should also understand that I am pregnant, so besides the rush of hormones, there is my ever-changing body and the fact that even maternity clothing can get too tight at some point. I only have about 3 pairs of pants. These pants no only looked presentable, but could be worn in summer and fall. I often thought I might keep wearing them after the baby came. THAT is how comfortable they were. And now here they are, beyond repair.

When I think about it, all my other pairs of favorite pants went the same way. I ripped them while hiking, while doing strange acting projects, or sometimes by just bending my knees. I guess I wear my favorite things a lot, and I end up washing them a lot, and that wears them out quickly. The fabric weakens and then the slightest tug rips it.

Anyway, I cried a lot about how unfair my life was and how I was going to have to go naked from the waist down for the remainder of my pregnancy until Steve came in and I realized I was being ridiculous and probably also scaring my children in the process. So... I'm still not over it. But I will go buy more clothes.

It just seems like such a waste. When I buy clothing I expect to wear it for years. Clothing to wear for the next 4 months is just.... how stupid is that? Should I really pay $40 for a pair of pants to wear until January?