I literally have no pants that fit me properly. My pregnancy pants are falling off my hips and my favorite pair of lucky jeans are squeezing the life out of me.
I had no choice. What else was I to do in such desperate circumstances? It’s not like I could run to the store! I’m a new mom after all.
I slowly made my way to the wasteland that is my goodwill pile. It’s full of all the buried clothes I sent away a month or so ago in the hopes of never seeing them again. Alas, I had no choice but to dig up a skeleton!
I pushed past old shirts I’d worn for three two many years, past pregnancy clothes I’d already figured out I would never wear again, past an outfit my nephew had forgotten here two years ago and no longer fit him!
And that’s where I found the corpse of choice – a six-year-old pair of faded jeans with half the sequences detached and a hole in the knee.
The pregnancy jeans slid off without any help.
I took one wobbly step into the left leg and the another into the right. Slowly I pulled these grandma jeans right up to my waist. I remembered for a second when DH taught mean jeans aren’t supposed to sit around your belly button. Just like these suckers.
I laughed softly and zipped up the jeans.
They fit me perfectly.