In an act of unbridled frugality, I added fabric to the bottom of Zoe’s favorite pants. They were the perfect kind of soft and not “too jean-sy” as so many pants are dubbed. They have pockets. And they don’t fall down from her lack of waist. They were also such high-waters that I was embarrassed for her to be seen in them–and it really takes a lot to embarrass me.
When I was young and growing about as fast as Zoe is now, my mom added fabric to the bottom of my pants. Not just straight fabric either. Ruffles. NO ONE had ruffles on the bottom of their pants. There was no question as to how uncool ruffles on the bottoms of one’s pants were. I hated them. As I wore the Laura Ingalls-esque prairie dresses that went back and forth from Becki to me with ruffles added and removed to adjust lengths (see, now it’s knee-length, it’s a whole new dress!), and tugged on the pants with their unsightly hems, I stewed in my hand-me-downs and shook a proverbial fist “I will never make my daughter wear something like this! Never!”
Heh, heh. Well, I am. And I, like my mom, think it’s perfectly cute.
Mom, you may now gloat.