Forgiveness

This past week was a bit grueling. It was busy, it was a big adjustment having everyone home. So much running around.

It is good because it was my test run for the summer vacation looming on the horizon.

Last year, we took a very lovely road trip to Virginia that week, so when Summer vacation rolled around, I was totally unprepared.

This year though, I have worked out the tiny kinks. It will be better.

One of the big things for this week was learning to give myself a break.

I was having dinner on the East Side on Saturday with a client. As we walked to and from the pizza place, I noticed many people milling about, obviously headed for a night out.

Most of them looked pretty sharp. And clean.

With each glance, I began to feel worse and worse about myself. I hunched into my sweatshirt and looked at the ground.

It was a bad hair day, my new pants that I just picked up second hand were a bit too long (I was giving them a test run before I sewed them), I had shit in my braces.  (Food, not feces)

Then it occurred to me that I had cleaned 2 bathrooms and lay half under a bed to vacuum it. I had cooked dinner and a mere hour before was sitting in a kitchen clipping a grown man's toenails.

I decided to give myself a break and held my head up a little higher. "Screw it!" I said to myself. "I'm working."

I also had a bit of an epiphany about my children this week.

For years, I have been giving my kids, especially the girls, shit about their sagging pants.

I despise the style that a lot of young men have nowadays, with the jeans carefully belted around the thighs and their underwear, along with their ass totally hanging out.

I have fantasies about running up and pantsing them.

I'd like to heckle them, but I think that they would enjoy the attention. They would probably sag their stupid pants in a more defiant manner, because someone was against it.

I also like to fantasize about those boys running from a charging herd of buffalo. Trying to pull their pants up so they could run better. I'm sure they wouldn't get very far.

The pants sag comes naturally to my girls. I had to tell one at dinner yesterday that I could see their ass through the back of the chair.

It drives me nuts and I get frustrated often.

I'm a total hypocrite.

I yell at them while I am tugging up my sagging pants.

I realized that this week. I just automatically pull my pants up every 5 seconds and don't notice that I do it.

I have no hips and no ass to hold my pants up. I had hernia surgery a few years back, so belting up my pants tight is really uncomfortable.

I am considering suspenders as well as a complete switch to elasticized waists.

I am definitely forgiving my children for this annoying trait as it is my fault after all.

It's my genes.

I can't put this on B. Lyd is not his biological daughter. I have only myself to blame.

Instead of yelling when the crack peeps out, I am trying to take a nicer approach.

Gentle reminders instead of, "Jesus Christ I can see your ass again!"

Yeah, I just sat here and tried to think of a way to wrap this post up in a witty manner it's not working.

Please forgive me.