An Ode to Stretchy Pants
Stretchy Pants, you’ll always be there for me. To comfort and wrap me in your cozy softness.
All day I have to bear the uncomfortable waistband of my business casual pantsuit. At night I have to walk around squeezed into a tube dress and/or skinny jeans. Sure, I look great, but I still wish I was wearing you.
You are always there when I have a crappy day at work, waiting for me when I get home. Before I have to do anything, like making dinner, answering my messaging, paying bills, you know, the grown-up stuff, you’re there, on me, making everything seem better and easier.
My favorite thing to do with you is stay in for the afternoon and watch a reality show marathon, old movies and eat my favorite snacks. Stretchy pants, you never judge me on what I eat. You stretch to fit my body perfectly, assuring me that I am beautiful at any weight.
You’re the perfect guest to have at a girls’ night in – gossiping, watching movies and lounging while we experiment with each other’s hair and talk about our lives. We can more easily have a massage-train with your assistance. And have no trouble sleeping curled up on the couch and the floor.
Stretchy pants, you are not just a dirty little secret. I can certainly take you out in public. You help me do the necessary things – a trip to the post office, errands at Target, taking out the recycling. Those are my responsibility, and you make sure I don’t mind doing them.
You encourage me to work out. You make it so I move easily as I go through my circuits, never judging or rubbing me the wrong way why while I contort my body or sweat profusely.
And someday, when I meet that someone special, I’ll let him see me wearing you. That will be the ultimate test of our relationship, the next big step. It will mean I am completely comfortable with him and you’ll be a part of our relationship. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a pair too, and we will all live together happily ever after.