The Sinning Pants

You know how wonderful it feels when you buy something at a consignment or thrift shop that still has the original tags on it? It is like this immediate sense of euphoria. I bet if there was a scientific study done there are some for-reals good chemicals that our brains release.

Well, I hit the jackpot. There is a tiny little consignment shop south of here - and trust me, if you go south of my house, you are literally in the middle of nowhere.

So anyhoo - there's a tiny consignment shop. I always flip through the pants, just in case. Cause, you know, I'm six feet tall, chances of me finding pants are slim.

But I was flipping.

And seriously and truly God chose this day to shine down on me. I mean this is really seriously a gift from God. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.

I found not one but two pair of pants, tags still attached -do you hear me? A white pair and a brown pair of the most beautiful, luxurious fabric you have ever seen in your life. Of course the first thing I do is go to the tag to check all the necessary info.

And the original price.....?

Get ready to spew your beverage -

$341.00

I kid you not. I would never joke about something like that.

So here comes the sinning part...

I love these pants. Love them. If my house was on fire, here are the things I would save in this order:

My child and my pants.

I put them side by side because my pants are technically closer to my bedroom so I could grab them on the way to my child. I would definitely think about wrapping them in a wet towel before leaving, though.

More sinning...

I look so good in these pants. Have I mentioned that I am six feet tall? Not too much of anything looks good on me. It mainly looks like I am wearing a much younger and smaller sister's clothes or a much older and larger brother's clothes.

Oh I look good.

Here's the main sin part...

When I wear them to church and we pray, I look down and...oh my goodness it's so awful I don't even know if I can say it.

I look down and all I can do is rub my pants, admire the perfect crease. Look at how perfectly they puddle around my feet. Yes puddle - I'M SIX FEET TALL!! This is some sort of fabrical anomaly!!!

Then all of a sudden there is a collective "Amen" and I'm like "whaaaa"? What just happened?

What just happened is I spent the entire prayer time admiring my pants.

And I don't think it's just me. Probably others around me are thinking "where in the world did Extra Long get her pants??"

Dare I say it? Dare I? Maybe they weren't a gift from God after all? Or maybe I'm just not using the gift the right way.

Maybe I should go down the aisle and ask for prayer for my pants.

Oooo! Then everyone would be sure to see my pants!!


P.S. I know your dying because I forgot to include the fact that I paid 7.50 for the brown pair and 15.00 for the white pair. I know! Still a lot, but I couldn't help it.