This Post Could Be A Country Song

I have this pair of jeans.

I’ve had them since I was in 8th grade.

That’s six years, ladies and gentlemen.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

I know.

Every time I wear them {which had slowly and sadly dwindled to about once a year} someone kindly suggests that I throw them away, on account of the fact that they are disgusting.

I might be more inclined to take their advice if they weren’t the most comfortable thing I own. Sure, I could always buy a new pair of jeans two sizes too big with pre-ripped holes in the knees, but it wouldn’t be the same.

So I wear mine.

And they make me happy.

I mean, think about it. I have had these since I was 13-years-old. How many things do I still have {and love} from when I was 13? A couple of stuffed animals, and a blanket maybe, but the list isn’t long.

And so I wore my jeans today, and now I will put them back in my drawer until the next time I feel the need for extreme comfort and reminiscence at the same time.


*On a side note, my mother also had a pair of very old and extremely ragged jeans that she loved {the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess} and I recently may or may not have been partially responsible for her getting rid of them. {Hint: I was.}

I’m sorry mom!

I have seen the error of my ways.