Unskinny Jeans

Every so often I take a notion to sort out the boys’ clothes.  The school going ones wear uniforms each day so their wardrobes are not hugely plentiful.  Some jeans, few long sleeve t-shirts and lots of hoodies. 

Smallest Boy on the other hand has the wardrobe of triplets.  All hand me downs.  It is both a curse and a blessing. 

A blessing for obvious reasons; whenever he grows out of something, I just have to rummage through the storage bags to find the next size up.  A curse because he has loads of stuff.  I mean loads.

So I decided to do a bit of a spring clean.  He also tends to wear whatever is on the top of his pile so there are a lot of items underneath that haven’t seen the light of day in a couple of months.

These were the ones to go.

I needed to find an extra storage bag to put his surplus stuff until such time as I can find their new forever homes. 

I found a sports bag and opened it up.  There were three pairs of big people’s jeans inside.

Mine.  From when I was that bigger person.

I lifted them out and held them up.  They were in perfect nick.

I tried them on.

Fucking fuckers fit. 

I knew it!

It seems I have fallen foul of calories; the little bastards that live in your wardrobe and sew your clothes a little bit tighter every night.

I can’t think of any other explanation.

Ah well.