Friday, April 27, 2012
I bought myself a new pair of pants to celebrate my weight loss. So the other day, while folding laundry, I looked at a pair of pants and asked my daughter if they were hers. "I think they're my new ones," I said.
"No, they're mine," she replied.
I held them up to my hips. "No, these look like they fit me," I said. "I'll put them in my pile for now and give them back if they're yours."
My daughter is seventeen years old and wears a size 14. Of course the pants would be too small for me if they were hers, right?
I tried the pants on. They fit. Must be mine, I reasoned, but then started thinking about it. These were dark jeans but still blue. Weren't the ones I bought black? And didn't they have shorter legs? These were so long, I had to roll up the cuffs. Perhaps these WERE my daughters jeans after all.
Out of curiosity, I went to the closet and brought out an old pair of size 14 jeans I wore back in the 1990's. I had kept them as a benchmark. They used to be my "skinny jeans" in those days. I tried them on.
I'm going to have to do something to differentiate my jeans from those of my daughter's. We're now the same size!