I finally got my first pair of yoga pants.
Let me explain that I have zero interest in yoga. I did it once. My husband got a set of exercise videos so we could work out together at home which means I did yoga for a total of 18 excruciating minutes that I will never get back and all I learned was that my favorite pose is the one at the end where you lay on the floor on your face and pretend to be asleep. I think it’s called Passed Out Tantrum Kid Pose or something like that. It is amazing and the only yoga pose I still do on any consistent basis. Not on purpose. Sometimes I just fall down, but that counts.
My best friend got too skinny for her yoga pants. Because she ACTUALLY DID YOGA IN THEM! She got thinner than she already was (I don’t even know why I like her) and she passed them on to me. I didn’t try them on for a year. I felt guilt towards the pants. Their complete purpose is to help people exercise. I was denying them their God given path in life.
Did I mention I hate yoga?
Last week laundry day came and went. I ran out of clean clothes because I was boycotting laundry. I don’t have any sort of moral objection to it or anything. I’m just lazy and I don’t want to do it. I went digging through my Clothes That Don’t Fit Anymore drawer for something to fill the gap and I found the yoga pants.
Desperate times and all.
WHAT THE WHAT?!
These are the best things ever. Why didn’t anyone tell me? I feel like I won the Pants Lottery.
I have permanently moved into the yoga pants. They are my new Woobie. You know. That blanket you had as a kid that you never let go of and your Mom had to make up some story about it needing to visit its Grandma in Ohio to get it in the laundry and then you didn’t speak to her for days because it “smelled wrong” after she washed it. That is how I now feel about my yoga pants.
They go with everything.
No, they don’t, but I don’t care. They go with everything I own. They make my legs look great. They aren’t too hot and they aren’t too cool. I can wear them with flip flops or tennis shoes. I can lounge on the couch or run to the store. I feel like I’m in my jammies, but I don’t look like I’m in my jammies. My kids don’t say I embarrass them when I wear them to school pick up like they did when I wore my blue fuzzy Cookie Monster jams. Win.
I will never leave them. I don’t think there will ever be any reason for me to wear anything else ever again. The only reason I’ll ever have to go shopping again is to buy another pair of yoga pants so I’ll have something to wear while I wash these.
You know, if I ever do laundry again.
Because yoga pants.