I have a story of horror and shame.
I split my pants.
Not just any pants. Yoga Pants. Who does that?
Not just one pair. Two pair. Who does THAT?
So, I have spent a great deal of time pondering this recent atrocity. I have narrowed down the possibilities to one of the following two scenarios.
In spite of my recent health goals, weight loss, and the fact that I have been running on average 15-2o miles a week, amongst my other workout routines…I have managed to balloon into an enormous entity that has ripped a material that was, in fact, created to stretch. I have broken the laws of physics and my inner thighs have ripped lycra.
I have been running at such a warp speed that my pants could not withstand the amazing pressure that my lightening fast running was putting upon them. In a nutshell, my running skills transcend the average pant.
Guess which one I am going to go with?
I own two pairs of black yoga pants. They are my at home mommy uniform and about the most comfy thing on the planet. Now both pairs have holes in the unmentionable area. Sew them? Why yes, I have tried that. They have re ripped. So in fact, if you do the math, I have ripped four pairs of yoga pants. FOUR PAIRS.
Upon discovering the RE RIP in my current pair of yoga pants I was minutes away from leaving the house to go on a date with my 7 year old. I had forty minutes to go and I needed to cut my 11 year old’s hair, iron 7 shirts, feed the kids dinner, get myself ready, and leap a tall building in a single bound. I accomplished it all and as I was about to throw on another pair of pants, I discovered I didn’t have another pair of pants because every single one of them was in the washer. Big problem because now I was left with just fancier clothes and I should have washed my hair but didn’t, so a hat was a necessity. My hats are not fancy clothes matching hats. So, there I was. I could put on fancy clothes with a casual hat and no make up, or wear my ripped pants and pray that I have no need to do a toe touch or the splits while on a date with my daughter.
I had no time to put on make up, actually do my hair, or better yet sew my pants, because eldest daughter had choir beginning in just 18 minutes and we live 15 minutes away. Fortunately, my other daughters choice of a date was to go to Target and spend her Valentines day $5 gift from her grandma and have a pizza at the snack bar. I decided to chance it and wear the pants.
I am pretty sure that no one noticed the rip in my pants. My daughter is so stinkin’ adorable. She dressed up for our date…all on her own, complete with her fancy tutu ish skirt.
ONE SHOULD NEVER TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY.
Confession is good for the soul. Join me.
Anyone have any embarrassing episodes you are willing to share?