A whole new pair of pants has risen up in the fight against me. This particular pair, I discovered on Saturday, I could take off and put on without going through the hassle of buttons and zips, yet my hips were enough to keep them up. This is a nigh-perfect Jeans Situation to be in.
Except, of course, the jeans were merely luring me into a trap. On Saturday, I was walking Napoleon, went to get the mail, and saw I had a package in the office, so I picked that up as well. With both hands occupied, I made my way back to my apartment, at which time, my pants sprung their trap and fell down. I flailed wildly for a few moments, as Napoleon at that EXACT MOMENT spotted another animal that he felt he must destroy, and started yanking me forward as I was attempting to maneuver the package and mail to the ground and pull up the renegade pants.
No fewer than three neighbors witnessed this.
*I* am the definition of class.
