Mad About Plaid
So, I have these plaid flannel pants. I think you are probably familiar with the type I'm referring to. Some people might refer to them as "pajama pants", but I find that term severely and unnecessarily limiting. I mean, it clearly excludes both daytime and in-public usage of said pants. Anyway. Mine are blue plaid. I bought them after my gastric bypass, and was v. proud of them as they were one of the first "non-plus-size" items that I own. Still, they are an extra-large (not to be confused with 1X, which is bigger) and they are too big. In addition to being too big, they are also warm, soft, snuggly, non-restrictive, figure-flattering and all around comfortable in general. In fact, if these pants were an actor? they'd win an Oscar. Really. Overall, though their bigness is only surpassed by their comfortableness.
This might illuminate just how big they are:
DH: "I didn't know you still had those pants. I thought you sold all your too big stuff at the yard sale this summer."
Me: "I did sell the big stuff. These are still good."
DH: "Ummmm, but aren't those from before your surgery? They're really old, they've got to be from before your surgery. Aren't they from before your surgery?"
Me: "No." (fat girl on the inside is mentally cringing, cause I was so much bigger before surgery)
DH: "Wasn't the last time I saw you wearing those, ah, weren't you like at least 8 months pregnant? And, they were baggy then."
Me: "I wouldn'tve called them baggy then. When I was pregnant, they didn't have the comfortable roominess that they do now. I mean, really. Besides, they're flannel. Flannel gets gets better with age. You can't just throw that aged flannel goodness away. God, what is your point?"
DH:
Me:
Thus, we are at an impasse.
But still.
There will be no compromise. I flatly refuse to take this kind of talk from a man who happily wears a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the pocket torn off. That's not even in the same league as roomy pants. Please. At least I have some standards. The pants will stay, I tell you. He will not win this battle, as God is my witness.
This might illuminate just how big they are:
DH: "I didn't know you still had those pants. I thought you sold all your too big stuff at the yard sale this summer."
Me: "I did sell the big stuff. These are still good."
DH: "Ummmm, but aren't those from before your surgery? They're really old, they've got to be from before your surgery. Aren't they from before your surgery?"
Me: "No." (fat girl on the inside is mentally cringing, cause I was so much bigger before surgery)
DH: "Wasn't the last time I saw you wearing those, ah, weren't you like at least 8 months pregnant? And, they were baggy then."
Me: "I wouldn'tve called them baggy then. When I was pregnant, they didn't have the comfortable roominess that they do now. I mean, really. Besides, they're flannel. Flannel gets gets better with age. You can't just throw that aged flannel goodness away. God, what is your point?"
DH:
Me:
Thus, we are at an impasse.
But still.
There will be no compromise. I flatly refuse to take this kind of talk from a man who happily wears a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the pocket torn off. That's not even in the same league as roomy pants. Please. At least I have some standards. The pants will stay, I tell you. He will not win this battle, as God is my witness.
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