I Know We’re Not Supposed to Compare Ourselves to Others or to Try to Figure Out Who’s Sucking Worse Than Us But Sometimes We Need to Know We’re Doing a LITTLE Better Than Someone Else And That’s Why I Tripped Over My Own Pants This Morning. For YOU.

Oct 9 2014

I tripped over my own pants this morning. Not because they were on the floor and I didn’t see them. Not because someone maliciously tossed them in my path while I was walking by. Not for any of the usual, discarded-them-in-the-middle-of-my-bedroom-last-night-because-I-was-really-tired-and-DONE-WITH-PANTS-so-let’s-keep-the-housekeeping-recriminations-to-yourselves reasons.

PantsNo; I tripped over my own pants this morning because, as they were halfway up my legs, I suddenly thought of 4 other things I needed to be doing — I have to go potty! I have to take my meds! I have to remind my boys to put their homework in their backpacks! I have to find a shirt because Topless School Drop-Off continues to be “frowned upon.” — and I marched off to do those things without completing the pants pull-up maneuver.

Literally, my hands were still at my knees, mid-hoist, and I just walked off as though, having thought about pulling up my pants, I was done.

It was a fantastic trip, just so you know.

More of a jump, really, like in ballet. 

I know! It was a jeté! A jeté which, according to WikipediatheSourceofAllKnowledge, is a large leap in which one leg appears to be thrown in the direction of the movement. 

That’s totally what I did.

grand jeté except not quite so grand since the leg I threw was already securely lassoed by my pants.

Perhaps a pathétique jeté is a more accurate term, as it ended in me lying on my bathroom floor, trussed up like a turkey.

Or like a calf at a rodeo steer-wrestling event.

OK, fine; calf roping may be the tiniest bit more precise than ballet.

Like calf roping almost exactly, except I roped two calves and, no offense to all the accomplished calf ropers out there, but I’m pretty sure I beat your time hands down, because the whole event, from putting my feet in my pants to finding myself face-down in the ample dirty laundry pile on the bathroom floor was only, like, 5 seconds. 

Frankly, I think Getting Dressed should be a recognized as a sport, and I should have this move named after me. The double-footed leap-and-trip, known from now on as a Woolsey. As a Gainer is to diving, so a Woolsey is to Getting Dressed. The half-Woolsey, of course, would apply to the single-footed leap-and-trip, which I’ve also performed at least twice. 

In conclusion, I think we forget to thank Jesus for the little things, so I’d like to take this moment to say, 

Dear Jesus,

Thank you that there are no video cameras in my bathroom.



Blue Jean image credit Suat Eman via freedigitalimages.net