Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Backup Pants

I gave my bosses daughter a ride home this evening.

When she got into the passenger seat, she sat on a pair of jeans.

"Oh just toss those into the backseat." I told her.

"Those are my backup pants."

She looked at me like she didn't know the importance of backup pants.

"You know, in case your pants rip."

I had been wearing my favorite pair of threadbare jeans this week and knew full well they could go at any time.

The ass had been worn through for years, covered with a series of gold zigzag thread and patches.

It was really just a matter of time before the inner thighs gave way.

Working with children had instilled the importance of backup clothing in me long ago.

I carry an outfit in my bag, and wetwipes in the car, along with water, chains, oil, jumper cables and granola bars.

I have an extra car-seat in my trunk.

And a fire extinguisher.

Band-aids.

Hair ties.

Mouthwash.

My bag typically has underpants and leggings, snacks, and wipes, CPR mouthguard, plastic barf bag, fountain pen, change, sunblock lipbalm.

I have bailed out many children and few adults in my life.

When I got home and checked my Facebook, I saw that my hilarious, smart friend Monica had written a poem on backup dresses.

Monica rides the bus.

Her struggle is real.

It made me feel good to see that other people are out there prepared.

Once, when Mark and I were traveling to Mexico, I used the restroom in the LA airport, and some rude, nasty lady had peed all over the floor.

Unfortunately, I didn't notice this until I went to pull up my pants and noticed that my hems were WET.

Thank goodness I had backup pants, a plastic bag and wipes.

When I was a child my mother once turned my shirt backward, to take advantage of a Free color, 8X10 photo special at Grant's Variety store in Tigard.

The front of my shirt was covered in red sucker juice, but the back was perfectly clean.

There is a lovely color photo of me wearing what looks like a boatneck top, but is in reality, a backward t-shirt.

Mom may not have carried back up gear, but by golly she knew how to cope with a mess in a pinch, and that is really what this boils down to.

Cover your ass, literally. 








2 comments:

  1. I always have extra chonies, sensible shoes, socks, wipes, and food stash in my car, and desk drawer at work. I've hooked countless coworkers, and a few street sleepers up with dry socks. It's an easy way to be a hero in the rainy season.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I always have extra chonies, sensible shoes, socks, wipes, and food stash in my car, and desk drawer at work. I've hooked countless coworkers, and a few street sleepers up with dry socks. It's an easy way to be a hero in the rainy season.

    ReplyDelete