Thank God For Stretchy Pants

It is after he had been incapacitated with hip pain for the past several days, Charles, known otherwise as King Of Patience, stated that he felt like he could ride in the car and would like to have some catfish and coleslaw to eat. I would be lying if I told you I didn't like catfish, and I didn't jump at the chance to partake of some vittles that I didn't have to cook myself. I immediately rattled off the restaurant choices before he changed his mind. We could go to the Riverview Restaurant in Ashland City, Cracker Barrel, or the Catfish House out across the river. I knew the ride to Ashland City would not be too comfortable for someone with sciatic nerve pain so I suggested the Catfish House. Guess it is only fair that I get to choose since I am the chauffeur.

Before he could agree...or disagree, I exited to change into something a bit more presentable...my red stretchy pants. I own about 10 pairs of black ones but I save my red pair for special occasions. I quickly changed, shot a spray of hair spray, and smeared on a little lipstick. You know at my age it is a waste of time to do much else. I grabbed my purse, checked to make sure I had my cell phone, and out the door we went. We arrived at the Catfish House, exited the CRV and started up the long sidewalk. It was a little on the crowded side, but several people were leaving and several were behind us, so I felt sure there would be little or no waiting time. As we progressed toward the door, I double-checked the remote lock on the CRV, pressing that little button until I heard the horn honk, assuring me that it was locked. I have a habit of putting my keys in my pocket so that I can easily access them when I am ready to leave. I have spent 15 minutes before, digging in my purse looking for my keys. I have even had to dump it before I could retrieve them, so in the pocket they go. I went to shove my keys in my poc...ket... my pocket... but the pocket wasn't there! I knew I wasn't dreaming.... these pants have pockets! I began to frisk myself to see where the pocket had gone. As inconspicuously as I could, I looked down to check to be sure that I had not put my pants on wrong side out. You don't want to call a lot of attention to yourself standing in front of a crowded restaurant wearing your red stretchy pants. That is when I discovered that in my haste, I had put my red stretchy pants on backwards! To avoid humiliation in a situation like this, it is far more cool to act like that is the way they are supposed to be. You know styles these days will allow about anything. I straightened up, pulled my top down over my front pockets that were now on my backside, and played it off. I have to tell you, though, it is a rude awakening when you put your pants on backwards and they fit just as well as they do frontward. I guess that explains why every step I took, my knees wanted to go back the other way.