This morning, Sally delegated dog walking to yours truly because of the rain and colder weather.
With umbrella in hand, Sadie and I began our customary route. It wasn’t two minutes into the walk that it occurred to me that I must have recently been shedding some weight.
You see, or surely better that you didn’t, my jeans repeatedly became the low riders I abhorred when high schoolers began wearing them twenty years ago. In my mind, it’s one of the worst fashion statements of the last century.
So, here I am, umbrella in one hand with the other hitching up my britches every thirteen steps or so.
i’m wondering how in heaven’s name could anyone put up with this low rider kerfuffle.
Oh…my bad, the fashion message of ultra cool outweighs any inconvenience.
Long story short, Sadie got a shorter walk today as my shoulder began hurting from holding up my britches.
Opening the front door, I said…’Honey, I think I’m really losing weight. What size were those jeans you just bought me?’
‘Size 38, dear, and did you know your zipper’s down?’
What You’re Saying