Answer: not me. In fact, summer in Chicago this year has been so cool that it’s been mostly capris and blue jeans. I do have shorts in the drawer, but I think I can count on one hand how many times they’ve been pulled out. Cool summer + AAS = I had to talk myself out of wool socks this morning.
The boys wear shorts, and I’m thankful for it. Blinded by the full glare of their knobby knees, I don’t have to acknowledge that every pair of track pants I bought this past spring is now high-waders, and can be blissfully ignorant for a few more weeks that the Big Back To School Clothes Shopping Nightmare will soon be upon me. Truly, clothes shopping with the boys is an event. I took notes around Easter time, when I realized they had nothing remotely appropriate for Easter services with their grandparents:
• Tony Hawk is the devil. Damn his clothes.
• They can wear shorts in april, in northern Iowa, yes? Please?
• I have been informed that pants must have a higher rise so as to not grab the junk. Duly noted.
• These two are non-stop meme sharing. Kohl’s should be paying me to entertain the other weary moms, or at least make them feel better about their parenting choices.
• Dress pants? Never!
• My kingdom for a pair of black jeans!
But there are others who do wear short shorts. Others who are considerably younger, with fewer stretch marks than I. And I saw one of these pretty young things this afternoon and it took several double takes to make sure she actually was wearing a lower level. I could use those shorts as a handkerchief. I own washcloths with more fabric. The bandanna I have in my hair at this very moment has a longer inseam. Short.
It’s just a matter of time before I start shouting at the kids to get off my lawn.