So Christmas just passed, and I’m at the point in my life where new clothes really make me happy. I’m the kind of guy who is difficult to buy for, so I just tell everyone, “Clothes and power tools. That’s all I need.” I like to keep it simple for everyone. Someone always breaks ranks, though, and I end up unwrapping a salad spinner. But I did get a lot of clothes, and I was happy.
All of the clothes were washed and hung or dried as appropriate, and I put on a brand new pair of pants yesterday.
I have to preface this with saying that the day before, Saturday, was my triannual shoe shopping expedition. It happens, well, once every three years. All my shoes wear out at the same time, the duct tape and twine cease to work anymore, and I have to break down and buy new shoes. That was Saturday morning. I came away with three shiny and beautiful pairs of shoes. What was strange was that for the past ten years, the size of my shoes has been 9 1/2 or 10, depending on the manufacturer of the shoe. Well, the place that I went to was sold out of either size on all three shoes that I was looking to buy. So I thought that I would go down to the next largest size that they did have in stock. On all three shoes, it was an 8. 8? I haven’t worn an 8 since middle school. Oh well, I’ll try it.
Holy cow! All three fit perfect. I couldn’t believe it so much that I was walking back and forth between the different size ailes to test this by trying on other shoes. I was trying on size 11, way too huge. I checked the shoes that I walked in with, which were size 10. I repeatedly tried all three pairs, walked around the store, looked in the mirror. Could I have been wearing shoes that were too big, all this time? Blasphemy!
So, I walked out of the store with three shiny and beautiful pairs of size 8 shoes that fit perfect. Inconceiveable.
I’m getting into my 30s now, and my metabolism, which used to be that of a rabbit, now resembles a slow moving marsupial. I’m to terms with this fact. My size expanded to a 34/32 pant size, and I have been able to keep it in check, so far. But this time last year I was fighting my waist, and was in denial that I might actually be a 36/32. Gasp!
So this year, without blushing, I told everyone that I was still a 34/32 in pant size. I am fully enwrapped in my denial. And, a pile of 34/32 pants is what I got.
So back to yesterday. I pull one of these pair of 34/32 pants off the hanger, iron it, and put it on.
Holy cow! I was swimming in these pants! These pants are huge! I like a few breaks at the bottom, but I looked like a street bum. I had to roll them up twice just to keep from dragging on the floor. When I tightened the belt, there were folds in the waistline.
Of course, then, I put on my size 8 shoes.
I am smaller than I was this time last year. Go figure.