Yep. That’s me. The girl on aisle 3 with her sunglasses on top of her head, her kids dragging behind her, wearing old sweatpants and my hubby’s t-shirt. So what?
I’m clean. I got up early and worked out, took a shower. I’ve taught my kids algebra and forced them to learn about the heart. I’ve edited a website and returned emails. BUT…I was out of milk, peanut butter, and bread and had to run to the grocery store so my kids had something to eat. (I mean, God forbid they try something besides peanut butter and jelly.) Did I feel like getting fully dressed to spend 5 minutes in the store? Nope.
It’s a miracle I have on makeup. At least give me that.
I can see you giving me the eye, texting your friend with your perfectly manicured finger about the total wreck that just bumped your shopping cart.
I don’t care. Most of the time, I’m dressed okay, but sometimes I really don’t care. Sometimes sweatpants are the best I can do. And you know what? I love these sweatpants. They are my best friend.
They always fit, so matter how much water I have retained. I can wear them fifty times in a row and not wash them and they look the same. They go with every ratty t-shirt I own. They are like a wearable bubble bath.
Sweatpants don’t judge. They are the Mother Teresa of clothing – always there to hug you and make you feel good.
Yes, you look beautiful in your work attire, dear fellow grocery shopping lady with the judgy eyes. But let’s face it…I could pull that look off, too. Just about everyone looks better in nice clothes. Duh.
I know the truth, though – as soon as you get home, you’re flinging that bra across the closet, stripping off your nicely ironed blouse and skirt, and putting on your sweatpants and a t-shirt.
It’s a universal truth, people. Nice clothes are like the relatives in your family that you like a lot, but are a little uncomfortable around. Sweatpants are your homies – the ones that have seen you dig an empty cookie container out of the trash because you realized there were some crumbs left. And then they helped you empty them into a bowl so none would spill.
Do I love my sweatpants? Yes! We are tight.
Ummm…you know what I mean.
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