Thursday I got some pants in the mail. Not only pants but two shirts and a beautiful wonderful oh my gosh is there a better piece of clothing than a hoodie. I got a hoodie but this post is not about a hoodie. Although I can't wait to wear it. I am so excited about hoodie weather.
Back to the pants. Focus.
I don't like to shop. In fact if I had known then what I know now I would have ordered one hundred pair of the purple pants Priscilla got me last year. She got me purple pants to replace the other purple pants which with their holes and bleach stains began to become a family disgrace and although I don't still carry the family name someone may connect me to them and well, they don't want to be associated with those purple pants. The color purple doesn't even want to be associated with them anymore. It left. I think their color is not even a named color. Bed. Bed is the only place I am allowed to wear them so they are the color bed.
The new pants are red. Bright, Santa got a new suit red. Not your typical me red. Not blend in with your surroundings red. Not don't look at me red. These pants are all hey, look at me, I'm red. Yes, I just gave dialogue to pants which means I should maybe not mention where I got the pants. Does a store want a person who gives dialogue to pants talking about their pants talking? Maybe they would pay me not to talk about their pants. Have I discovered a new way to generate income? Please Shea, do not mention us. Take this money and forget you ever knew us.
Think of the market out there. It is huge, so much hush money to be had.
Sorry Bamboosa, you didn't send the check and I the antifashionista love your pants, love every piece of bamboo clothing you have. I love the way you wrap it, I love the way you send it, I love the way it feels, I love that it only gets better with each washing, I love it, love it, love it. Bamboosa, I love your American made self. You are my heart Bamboosa. Please don't sue me 'cause I have a story about your clothing.
I was having breakfast with Mom and Dad last year when Priscilla gave me the pair of Bamboosa purple pants all nicely wrapped with the sweetest card not so much saying throw away those other purple pants but more like I love you enough and care about our family's image enough to give you a new pair of purple pants. When I opened the gift and pulled the pants out and then up to my cheek to feel their softness my Mom said, Aren't those cool? They are made out of bamboo. Isn't that wild? How do you think they do that?
I don't know, I said.
They are just so soft, she took them out of my hand.
We admired them together talking about what a perfect gift it was, how sweet Priscilla was to do something so thoughtful and bamboo, who would have known bamboo could get so soft.
Dad who had been quietly eating his breakfast suddenly blurted out, Worm shit.
These are the moments I live for so I smiled, turned and looked at him, Worm shit, Daddy?
The worm eats the bamboo and shits out the silk. Worm shit. The pants are made of worm shit.
I laugh, Daddy, I kinda like the fact my pants are made from worm shit. Nice.
Dear Bamboosa, you should have sent the check. Nonetheless, I love your worm shit pants, both the purple and the red colors, and am eternally grateful for your ability to offer them to me at a very reasonable price.
Dear reader, road trip for me. Be back Sunday or Monday with photographs.