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Another Few Days of This, and I’ll Look Like the Unabomber

My wife — who didn’t kill me earlier, as I’d feared she might — just told me that I look like someone who hasn’t left the house in a week. Which is, of course, very mean. Mean, and uncalled for, and personally very repugnant.

It’s also one hundred percent true — I do look like someone who hasn’t been out of the house, or probably even off the damned couch, in six or seven days. Now, of course it’s not literally true — that would be ridiculous. We got home from our trip on Monday, and since then… well, I’ve been out of the house not once, but twice! I walked the dog yesterday — all the way out to the front porch, to get the mail — and on Friday night, I stepped out back to see what the dog was doing in the kennel. See? Twice! Where does my wife get off, saying I look like I haven’t been out of the house at all? Sheesh.

On the other hand, I’m sitting here, leaning crookedly on the couch, in a T-shirt and the new warm-up pants that I got for Christmas. It’s part of a suit, but wearing the top and bottom at once make me feel like an off-duty gangster, so I’ve been mixing ’em up. The top with a pair of sweats, the pants with a sweatshirt, or just a tee. So versatile, so stylish. Such a wonderful accessory for my unkempt hair and three-day beard. Mama, is this the ‘high life’?

Anyway, I’m not really sure these are really best called ‘warm-up pants’, but I’m not sure what else to call them. They’re not ‘parachute pants’, certainly.

(And I’ll tell you how I know, in just a minute.)

Together, the ensemble might be a ‘jogging suit’, but the pants alone? ‘Jogging pants’? Doesn’t sound right. So I’m not certain what they should most accurately be called. And thus, I call them ‘warm-up pants’, because that’s what they remind me of.

But really, that’s not what they are, for one very important reason. See, when I think of ‘warm-up pants’, I envision those pants that basketball players wear during shootarounds — you know, the kinds they can grab by the thighs and swoosh right off? They must have velcro or something on the sides, or a cutaway waistband or something. I’m not really sure.

What I am sure of is that these pants I have on are not those kinds of pants. See, I did the experiment today. Right after my shower, I got dressed, and put these pants on right over my boxers. And then, standing right outside the upstairs bathroom door, I grabbed ’em by the front, and tried to yank them off.

Now, folks, I don’t know whether any of you have accidentally thrown yourself down a staircase by your crotch, but that’s essentially how my little experiment ended. The pants didn’t come off, the elastic held, and the two handfuls of fabric went careening toward the stairs, followed by the rest of the pants, and followed then by me, with my big ass bringing up the rear. Bumpity-bumpity-bumpity-thud. Perhaps not my best-planned experiment.

On the other hand, by the time I got to the bottom, one leg had actually come out of the pants. So I thought, ‘what the hell‘, limped back up the steps, and threw myself down again. And this time, they came off completely! Woo hoo! Maybe they are ‘tearaway’ pants, after all, as long as you have a flight or two of stairs handy. I guess they can be ‘warm-up pants’ after all. Cool! As soon as I get my elbow back into joint after that second fall, I can finally write the ‘thank you’ note properly, using just the right term. Oh happy day!

Note: In anticipation of your concern, I should probably confess that the falls above didn’t actually occur as described. No pants, elbows, or goofy writers were actually harmed in the making of this blog entry.

Actually, I put the pants on a blow-up doll, and threw it down the stairs. It just sort of ‘bip-bopped’ down the steps both times; nothing really interesting happened, and the pants stayed firmly on the doll the whole time. Until the dog bit the thing’s nose, anyway. At that point, all bets were off, and there were bits of plastic everywhere. So, to be fair, there was a ‘Naughty Nanette’ inflatable figure harmed really badly in the making of this post. But that’s about it.