Showing your A$$ in public

Clothes usually last me a long time, I'm not sure if it is because I am easy on them or if it just takes a lot for me to throw them away, Cindy will argue that it is most likely the latter because I have a hard time throwing anything out.

I wear jeans until they actually fall apart, I have worn jeans so threadbare that you could almost see through them, and I never threw them out, although they did suddenly vanish about the same time new jeans appeared in my closet. I like to think that they finally fell apart into a pile of denim dust on the floor of my closet, but I have a feeling that Miss Cindy had more of a hand in their disappearance than just running the vacuum across the closet floor to pick up the mysterious pile of light blue dust.

Most of my jeans are getting pretty thin now, even though I do have a few new pairs that I am still "breaking in" and I also have two that still look pretty good even though they are about 10 years old, so needless to say these two old pairs have been my go-to jeans.

A few weeks ago I knelt down to help a friend who was trying to tie a tarp around his travel trailer. Never try to do anything with a tarp while the winds are howling, but he was certain that it could be done, and I was certain that I knew what that ripping sound was I heard as I grabbed for the tarp while it was whipping in the wind, the sudden breeze blowing between my legs told me that it wasn't the tarp ripping.

How in the world can you rip out the crotch of your pants simply by reaching for something while down on one knee? I guess the wind was blowing harder than I thought.

I changed pants and folded the ripped ones up and sat them on top of the hamper. Where they sat until my next incident.

About a week later Cindy's dad and I decided that we needed to go down to Harbor Freight tools, on this day I was wearing the only pair of go-to jeans that I had left, being as the other pair was still out of commission lying on top of the hamper awaiting repairs.

The trip to Harbor Freight was uneventful, I bought a few things that I just couldn't live without, Ray ran all over the store on his scooter adding items that he thought we may need to the basket on his scooter, and Cindy went through the coupons and got herself whatever freebie they were giving away on that day. We actually had a good time.

Later on that evening while I was lifting our little dog Dixie up onto the couch I heard a slight ripping sound coming from behind...

Dixie looked at me like she was saying "Don't blame that noise on me, I didn't fart!" and that ripping sound wasn't coming from me either. The rip was in the rear end of the only go-to pair of pants that I had left.

I went to Cindy and turned my backside to her and pointed at my butt. "Look at this will ya" I said. "Yes Jimmy I see that, that is your butt", "No my pants Cindy, look at my pants", "Yes Jimmy, those are your pants.", I told her "I think that I ripped them when I picked up Dixie," she laughed and said "I noticed that they were ripped earlier today..."

"What, when, where? What do you mean they were ripped earlier today?"

She had the nerve to laugh and inform me that my pants were ripped the whole time we were shopping at Harbor Freight. "Why didn't you tell me that my pants were ripped?" I asked. "I thought that since you were wearing them that you already knew." She said and then added "I figured that if you wanted to show your ass in public, it was OK with me."

Now I have two pairs of jeans lying on top of the hamper awaiting repairs, and a wife with hands on her hips telling me that she will not be repairing those old jeans, I told her that I would do it myself, but was adamantly informed that it was time to "let them go to blue jean heaven, they can't be saved, we could try but you would just be prolonging the inevitable." She actually forced me to throw them out myself.

I did have a back up go-to go-to pair of jeans that I haven't worn in quite a while. The only problem is they have suddenly shrunk, they are too small around the waist, my go-to jeans are no longer lying on top of the hamper and all of the others are in the hamper. I now have some serious decisions to make. First off is do I do the laundry in my underwear? Or should I dig a dirty pair of jeans from out of the hamper? I could wear the jeans that are too small around the waist because they fit everywhere else, or I could even go to the trash can and retrieve my ripped jeans.

An idea came to me suddenly, like a light bulb above my head, and it didn't involve the laundry.

You know those elastic ponytail holder/ hair tie thingies you ladies use, well Cindy had a small one lying on the counter, I looked at it for just a minute and then claimed it as my own, this little hair tie now has a new purpose.

With the combination of my Southern Engineering skills, a black hair tie, and an untucked t-shirt, my back up go-to pants now fit just fine.