When I was in middle school, if we wore pants to school that came to our ankles, someone would inevitably ask, “Expecting a flood?” “Flood pants” were the height of uncool attire, even in an era of tight rolling our pants, and Michael Jackson’s ankle length Thriller leather pants. Like so many other trends of fashion, if you made it happen to your pants on PURPOSE it was fine, but just hitting a growth spurt was so uncool.
Well, my daughter has been walking around in flood pants for a couple of weeks, or maybe more. I know. She’s so uncool, (Or really, her mother is) but I keep thinking that there’s no point getting the next size clothes from the attic until the weather warms up, and the weather hasn’t warmed up. We’ve had three weeks of torrential rain so maybe “flood pants” aren’t all that inappropriate, still, when I see her walking (trotting, really) away from me and her pants aren’t touching the top of her shoes, I can’t help but feel like I’m relegating her to a life of pocket protectors and taped up glasses.
I think I’m going to have Jonathan fetch the 24 month clothes from the attic. Flash flood warning or not, I don’t think I can handle the flood pants for another day.