all my pants must be joking

An open letter to all pants, jeans, and skirts in my closet:

I know you all must be playing a very mean joke on me.  After I close the closet door I can hear the whispers, the soft chuckles, the planning of your next move. 

Hey, let's all shrink a little each week. 

 It'll be comical to watch her squat and kick and wiggle to pull us on every morning.  

Just wait until she gets to the buttons....that's the BEST part.  

Yo pants, SO NOT FUNNY.  Skirts, DO I LOOK LIKE I'M LAUGHING?  And you, Mr. Skort, I realize that you have been ignored in the back of the closet, but your abandonment issues are not a reason to play mean, mean tricks on me.  If you don't stop shrinking soon, I'll cutting you all into shorts.  That's right, shorts.  Shorts so short that the pockets hang out the leg.  Maybe I'll get crazy and splatter bleach on you too.  Ooh, and I'll rip your wide seams and hold them together with safety pins.  Do you want to end up back in the early 90s?  I DIDN'T THINK SO.  

I refuse to believe that all the gelato I ate on our Italian honeymoon had anything to do with this.  It's perfectly normal to consume gelato twice a day for 10 days.  PERFECTLY NORMAL.  Next came Thanksgiving and Christmas, which we all know, are holidays filled with vegetable crudite', skim milk, and wheat germ.  I heard that waffles and chocolate, especially when eaten out of a truck on the streets of Belgium, are a nutritious and healthy breakfast.  So full of nutrients, that it's common culture to have a few a day for at least three days straight.  These three months post-wedding, with all the couch cuddling, sleeping in late, laziness, and eating out, couldn't have had an impact either.  We all know that laying around with your husband and feeding each other ice cream counts as exercise.  I mean, all that arm movement from mouth to bowl, it gets exhausting.  

So, my lovely pants, skirts, and lone skort, since the problem of us no longer fitting each other is OBVIOUSLY SO NOT MY FAULT, please reconsider your notfunnyatall shrinking joke.  Yes, it might give a chuckle to witness the gymnastics I practice to pull you up in the morning.  And it also is probably amusing to see me trying to find a shirt that is flowy enough to cover the fat hanging over your waistband.  But, please, expand back to your regular size so we can look cute together again instead of a stuffed, overflowing sausage.  

Respectfully,

your owner

your owner