Before I left the house today, I told my mom, “I’m not coming back without jeans.”
And so I spent the next four hours searching for The Jeans. Jeans are really hit-or-miss for me, which is why I’ve been wearing the same jeans for about the last three years. I think the last addition to my collection was nine months ago. I have this black pair that I’ve literally had since eighth grade. (Those still fit me. I don’t know how that’s possible. They’re like the Traveling Pants, except they’ve time-travelled from five years ago.) Anyway, clearly I needed to update my wardrobe.
So after a hard-fought battle, I found the PERFECT pair of jeans. I don’t have a ton of skinny jeans (they look weird on me), but these were amazing. I felt elated. The day was won. I dropped a few things off at Goodwill, feeling pretty good about myself, and hurried home to show my mom… and that’s when I looked in the backseat and realized I dropped off the wrong bag.
No, I thought. No. No. NO.
There was only one thing to do: I had to go back to Goodwill, and if I had to beg for my jeans, then I would do it.
And beg I did. I parked at a crazy angle and went barreling up to the drop-off point, blatantly cutting off this guy who was dropping off a TV. I started babbling almost before I was even within earshot. “Hi I was just here and I accidentally dropped off a bag that wasn’t supposed to be dropped off and, um, I was wondering if… if… if I could get it back? Please? Pretty please?”
He kind of rolled his eyes and pointed me in the direction of the huge box full of STUFF. I practically dove in and started flinging bags every which way… until I FOUND THEM. I thanked him (“THANK YOU! THANK GOD!”) and skipped back to the car. I’m wearing them and now I love them even more. They’re better than the Traveling Pants. They’re like a dog that travels thousands of miles to get back to its owner. They’re like the Homeward Bound dogs (and cat). Magic, I tell you. These pants are MAGICAL.