Damn, I put on pants

At 6:45 heard the phone ring, by the time I was done putting my baby down it was just ahead of 7pm. I returned the call to my cousin, who is also on maternity leave and lucky for me lives only a few blocks away. She wondered if I wanted to do something, ‘I had plans but they were cancelled, and I can’t help but think – Damn I put on pants. Do you want to do something?’ It’s funny because I had already planned my night, and I was looking to catching up on the pvr. But she had put on pants.

I don’t hesitate to agree to go out. As soon as I agree I’m excited. I am quick to mention that I’m in sweat pants, that I will be in sweats if that’s okay. Luckily our plans are pretty casual. But as soon as I hang up the phone I realize that maybe I’d like to get dressed up, in jeans. (So basically I define dressed up the way I used to dress up for Friday night dinners at summer camp). I quickly brush my hair, put on jeans and a shirt. I feel pretty good. Although I’m very skilled at spending an evening chilling on the couch, putting on non-elastic pants is as good a reason as any to go out.

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