The Sunday Pants

I'm a ritualistic sort of girl. When I eat M&Ms, I always eat the green ones last. I can't take ice cream out of the container without putting a bite in my own mouth. And on Sunday afternoons after church, I wear the Sunday Pants.

What are the Sunday Pants? They're a pair of grey, flowy lounge pants, made out of t-shirt material and purchased at GAP body at least eight years ago. I know this because they're a size 10, which is a size I haven't worn since my first baby was born more than seven years ago. So they don't fit all that well. But they are the single most comfortable item of clothing I have ever worn. I always giggle at the people on What Not to Wear who can't get rid of their ugly t-shirts, but I'd be hard-pressed to toss out the Sunday Pants.

They're a part of my Sunday ritual. I come home from church, put on the pants, eat something bad for me, and, if Eddie's home (he's not today) take a nap. They're the perfect pants for napping-- the material is light enough that I don't feel like I've got blankets on my legs, and they're loose enough at the waist that they don't feel like they're strangling me.

But the pants have seen better days. Much, much better days. I've worn them through four pregnancies, and at every phase in between. I've tried replacing them, but I've never found another pair that's the equal of the Sunday Pants. They're at the stage now that I'm embarrassed to be seen by the Deacons when they come by to collect fast offerings. I can no longer wear them when they Home Teachers come to visit (which is fine, since they don't come often). Pretty soon, the waistband is going to fall off entirely, and the Sunday Pants will be trashcan bound.

Until then, you know how you can find me on Sabbath afternoons-- wearing the Sunday Pants. And if I actually let you catch a glimpse of me wearing them, you'll know that you and I are very good friends. 

--originally published 8/5/07