1.
If there's one thing we can agree on, it's that pants are so damn disrespectful.
2.
I'm just trying to live my life, pay my bills, do my job, and look cute...
3.
...but as per usual, my pants don't give a shit about any of that.
4.
The other day, I casually brushed my hand on my inner thigh (as a person does), and whispered to myself, "It's begun."
5.
At first came the denial. "I can still wear 'em, it'll be fine," I told myself.
6.
And then came the rage. "THESE ARE MY FAVORITE PANTS! WHY IS THE WORLD AFTER ME?!"
7.
Soon after, I jumped into my car and heard a spine-chilling *RIIIIIIIP*.
8.
And that's when the sadness hit.
9.
I had torn my jeans from thigh to ass, and there was no turning back.
10.
And you would think, "OK, here comes the acceptance part of the story."
11.
But nope. I told myself IT WAS STILL FINE, patched it up, and went about my day.
12.
Well wouldn't you know, the damn iron-on patch fell off 15 minutes later, and my thigh sought the freedom it thought it rightfully deserved.
13.
I couldn't deny it any longer: My pants were gone and I just had to accept it.
14.
So I threw 'em away, drove myself to the store...
15.
...and bought myself the exact same pair again, because I can't pass up a bargain.
16.
Pants, you're rude as hell for tearing at the thigh, but you made my ass look good while you were here. RIP.
