Last night as pulled on my pj pants I heard the telltale sounds of disintegrating elastic and thought, ‘Why can’t they just make things that last?’
Then I realized that probably it was because I’d worn these when I was pregnant. Huh, baby girl is 8.
Oh. wait. I wore them when I was pregnant with CJ. He’s 13.
Well, I hate to get rid of something comfortable though. I mean I’ve had them a long time at least… when did I get them?
Umm… Mom gave them to me when I was a freshman in high school so…. oh, crap, no wonder they’re falling apart – I’ve had these pants for more years than my age when I received them.
So now I must say goodbye to my comfy pants that I’ve had longer than anything else I still own… oh, wait, I still have my record payer.
Aren’t you glad you don’t get trapped in my head more often?
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