A Good Pants Day

Today I’m stylin in my pants, all happy and feeling downright seXXXay. Some days I feel like one sassy boo in my snappy jeans while other days I wonder who traded out my butt for a beluga whale in the middle of the night.

I have no idea why some days are good pants days and some days are bad pants days and why some days can start out one and end up the other. I totally blame being a woman for this. I mean, the same pair of pants that are so tight I feel like an over stuffed sausage on Thursday will be relaxin’ and hanging loose after wash day two days later. I can understand second and third day jeans being more comfy since they’ve had a day to relax and get used to things but fresh washed jeans looser than second day jeans for the same pair? That’s got to be some wicked woman mojo going on.

(Word does not seem to recognize ‘mojo’)

The absolute worst pants day is usually fresh washed jeans day. I hate fresh washed jeans day. I’ve been known to contemplate wearing second or third day jeans an extra day (or two) to avoid fresh washed jeans day. I’ve even entertained the idea of wearing fresh washed jeans for a couple hours the night before just so they’d be nicely relaxed the next day, but I don’t tend towards masochism during my relaxin hours. Mostly, I just bite the bullet and go sausage and grumpy for a day.

Today was a new jeans day. *shudder* However, before I donned my Chinese finger trap pants of doom, I armed myself with the stealth “anti-new jeans pudge” trick: SeXXXay satin undies. Hey, the more slide I can get, the easier it is for the jeans to move around and the less tight they feel right? Right! Or at leas that was my thinking. Besides, even if a gal is having a beluga whale day, she can at least feel sexy in her cute print satin bikinis no?

So on went the bikinis and…hey! They fit better than the last time I had them on! They felt good! I even paraded around for a while marveling at how my undies were getting on the whole “don’t make boo feel so fat” train. Awww undies, I love you! (and also I was staling the pants thing.) However, it was too cold to go pantsless, so the inevitable had to happen. The pants, they had to go on.

hate.

I bit the bullet and on went the pants. Over the feet, on top of the cat, (because there is nothing more fun – even on a new pants day – than to flap your not yet pulled up jeans pant leg on top of a cat stupid enough to be wandering by when you are getting dressed) over the butt and finally snugged into place at the hips. Then, THEN! The moment of depressive agony hits: Buttoning and zipping. That’s when the truth of one’s beluganess hits home. I can remember my mumses having a bad pants day way back when and she would resolve the final pants battle by flopping back on the bed and using gravity to her advantage to zip up the pants, and my mumses ain’t fat. I think women’s jeans have evil minds of their own. Anyway, the morning was slipping by so I gritted my teeth and zipped and buttoned.

And my pants didn’t get all up in my grill about eating potato chips or short bread or anything. They just hung there all happy like and loose. Loose?!? Fresh washed jeans day and my pants were loose? I almost checked to see if I wasn’t wearing a pair of TheMan’s pants because damn! They haven’t been this comfy in quite a while. Bonus!

So if you see me all living it up today, you can thank my pants.


Last year at the booniverse: Bad pants day, no entry!

Last last year at the booniverse: Welcome back machine! There’s nothing a good hard drive wipe can’t cure. Sorta.

The year before at the booniverse: This is what finally got me out of the house and on my way to visit with my peeps because we had NO BEER!

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