Sunday, May 22, 2005

Blame it on the Pants

Today I wore pants to church,
and it was all downhill from there.

I can't tell you why I am not a church pants-wearer. I'm just not. There is something stuck in my personal fashion sense of right and wrong that says, "Thou shalt not wear pants to church." In my brain, I'm fairly certain this logic is a close neighbor to, "Remember, tennis shoes do not belong in the Lord's Sanctuary," and, "Wiggly-toe sandals do not appropriate footwear make when performing with the symphony."

These are my personal rules.

But today, I broke my rules and I wore Capris to church. My first rationalization was knowing that under a church robe, nobody could tell if I was wearing a skirt or not. My second rationalization was whereas my Capris were clean and ready to wear, finding a skirt or a dress in a similar state would be a problem, considering the current condition of my bedroom. But the rationalization that broke the camel's back was that it was going to be a long day, and now that I'm 43 (more on that later), I can start breaking the rules.

So break the rules I did. My choir robe never betrayed my secret, and it was wonderful to be free of panty hose and heels. Such freedom. Such happiness.

Today I wore pants to church,
and after church I was faced with a dilemma.

In the right corner, wearing red God-fearing, rule obeying trunks was the annual church choir banquet. It is the pot-luckiest event imaginable, complete with quivering Jell-O salads, meatballs adrift in a ketchupy sea, and generic noodle casseroles -- the fanciest served with crunchies on top.

In the left corner, wearing God-flaunting, rule breaking PANTS was brunch with the crew, including a very special visit from a very special guest. It is the usual Sunday Grill-Dog affair, complete with dogs, burgers, French fries and breakfast served all day long.

Now, I was resigned to attending the choir banquet. TinyTuna would be receiving her certificate of thanks and this year marks the transition (one year early) from the younger children's choir to the high school choir. It was a big deal and it was her day, so I was resigned to give up the next couple hours in her honor.

But then, out of the blue, TinyTuna said, "I don't want to go to the banquet. I want to go to brunch instead."

I looked at her once. Twice.

If I was wearing a dress, there would have been no discussion. If I was wearing panty hose and high heels, I would have lectured her and then marched her into the room. But I was wearing pants, and suddenly there were no rules.

I said, "OK." And off we went.

The mom in me knows we should have gone to the banquet, because it was the appropriate thing to do. But when you wear pants to church, and when very special guests come to town, and when there isn't as much time to visit and catch up as you would like, you bend the rules to spend time with those you miss.

Today I wore pants to church,
and I think -- just this once -- it was OK.


nk said...

Maybe you were birthday-gifted with KNEW pants would somehow be OK this one time.

Happy belated one!

mensch71 said...

And the pants, they had a theme song. doo-doo-doot! doo-doo-doot! dum-dum-da-duh-dum-dum!

TV Junkie said...

Filthy pants wearer! *points*

Anonymous said...

I'm tellin' Mom......