Friday, October 7, 2011

Saggy pants!

A million thoughts were running through my head this morning about what to put into today’s blog post, but as I sat at a red light on my way to work, I saw a man and his son (probably around 5-7 years old) crossing the street. At first it was one of those sweet early morning sights that make you smile. There is some construction on E 22nd near my office, so there are orange barrels at the corner and near them the street is wet from whatever they are doing. The dad, starting across the street first does that half jump, half tip-toe we all do through water, and holds his hand behind him signaling for his son. His son now begins to cross the street, attempting to do exactly what his dad had done, but has to jump/tip-toe at least 5 times to his dad’s one, but he never takes his eyes off his dad as he reaches for his hand. They then clasp hands and walk the rest of the way across the street, the son beaming with pride. And then I see the back of dad, his jeans, belt and all, hanging below his butt cheeks, boxers completely exposed, sagging halfway down his legs, and I am instantly irritated! It almost deflated me. I was angry with him for taking this moment away from me. I so wanted to be proud of him for walking his son to school and being that role-model, but I was just so damn disappointed with the saggy pants.

Then the therapist mind kicks in. Why does this bother me so much? He’s still walking his son to school. He still held his hand across the street. His son obviously adores him and wants to be just like him. I think that’s it. He wants to be just like him, saggy pants and all. This kid will eventually be that same punk kid with saggy pants I see all over Cleveland! Or am I just angry (read: jealous) because I feel like I’ve sold out? I gave up my own versions of saggy pants to get ahead in my career. It’s an interesting question, which I’m sure I will continue to think about. What I do know is that those damn saggy pants set me on a path of irritation that isn’t easy to get rid of at work! Just another reason to hate visible boxers!

Here’s a brief synopsis of the other thoughts running through my head this morning:

• My step-son, CJ, got a job!!! Big news in our house because since moving in his days consist of playing on Facebook, watching tv, and playing guitar. Oh most recently, he’s taking up singing. Now, he has a natural amazing talent for guitar, even though I would still like him to get a paying job! He considers himself an unsigned artist and wants to focus on his music! He really needed to get a job. Let me state for the record. He is not a singer. My friend, L, called me a dream killer for saying that, but let’s all remember….I’m a realist!

• Now that I’ve accepted the fate of the childless, my husband has decided it’s his mission to get me pregnant. Sounds fun, right? Except, his plan if for me to give up gluten! I know, makes no sense. I do not have celiac disease, but he heard Elizabeth Hasselbeck talk about how she struggled getting pregnant until she discovered she had a gluten allergy. I have tried to convince him that there are some other differences between Elizabeth and I, but he has apparently never had a biology class. She’s in her teens and I’m going to be 42 in a month!

• My complete and utter lack of free time, and I’ve now decided to take on another job. While I’m excited about it, I’m also terrified that I will never sleep again. And I just got married. I would like to spend some time with my husband! Does sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching The Office at 9pm count as a date?

Speaking of: I worked yesterday until about 7:30pm, and then made dinner. We ate at about 8:30. I made sweet Italian sausage with sautéed onions, pear, and gorgonzola cheese. It was super yummy, only took me about ½ hour and dirtied one pan! Let me know if you want more detail!

1 comment:

dlg said...

Worse? Butt cracks or boxers. Having said that, it's time to give it up, daddy, and be a good role model. And yes, Mondie, it's a date.