As a short-waisted person, I’ve always hated high-waisted jeans. The waist to hip ratio is always off leaving me with either Hammer pants hips or a tourniquet above my belly button. On top of that, they are just a few pleats and tapered legs away from being the dreaded mom jean.
I've Still Got It Mom got up the other day and put on a pair of freshly washed, mid-rise jeans with a little stretch for a flattering fit. They were a little snug, but a layered shirt easily disguised any possible muffin top. A little makeup, a primping of the hair, and I gingerly descended the stairs to make a fabulous and nutritious breakfast. Kisses and pats on the head to the beautiful children and my handsome husband, and I went off tidying while humming a merry tune (June Cleaver peeked in the window green with envy).
Every bend and twist was made easy with my awesome and stylish pants, and it didn't take long for the waist to loosen, turning them into hot low-rise jeans, and making the old muffin top disappear. Soon the children came into play and Bio-Cave Mom not only caught a not-so-pleasant scent, but also knew exactly who made it. “Did someone make a stinky?” Mary Poppins Mom asked with a lilt in her voice. Quickly, I laid Baldilocks on a blanket on the floor and crouched down to get to work.
This is the point where the not-so-awesome stretch in my pants decided to take my formerly mid-rise pants straight past ultra low-rise to be-low rise. Trying not to offend the sensibilities of the children with my new plumber fashion, I tried to hike them up, but Baldilocks took the opportunity to plant her foot into her open and soiled diaper. Diaper Pro Mom made a stealthy entrance.
In the midst of our skirmish, my shirt started inching upwards and the effect was like the parting of the Red Sea. DP Mom tried in vain to wiggle the clothes back into place while keeping all of the bio-hazard contained to a small area. But then, there was a sensation.
A small, Jungle Kid sized hand planted itself on the middle of my back which was now exposed, and a narrow, cold object was being forcibly inserted into the plumber area. My shrieks, whoops, and wild wiggles just egged the little monkey on. Sunshine kicked back and rolled with laughter as I finished cleaning Baldilocks. Fast as lightening, I wheeled around, yanking up my pants, and found the Jungle Kid with a plastic tea saucer in position to feed the meter one more time. Oh, the humiliation of it all.
This event forever changed my view on several things. My heart and mind are now a little less judgmental towards high-waisted jeans. They may not look fabulous, but they are infinitely practical. Pairing them with a belt and a tucked in shirt may keep me safe from an unfortunate exposure.