Runaway Pants

Last Saturday was a weird juxtaposition of days for the family. I had loads of lawn work to catch up on, which meant it was a work day for me. Our oldest, however, had thrown up on Friday, so it was a rest day for the kids while we tried to figure out if he was really sick, or if he’d just eaten something bad.

So while I got up early to chop, hedge, trim, and otherwise attack the rampant vegetation taking over our lawn, the kids lounged about the house in their pajamas under the watchful eye of their momma.

Around about 2pm, I remembered that I needed to run some errands at the store.  I abandoned my fruitless attempts at controlling the hedges and came inside.

“I’ve got to run to the store,” I said to the empty kitchen. “You think the kids want to come?”

Two little heads popped out of their bedroom “Hooray! Let’s go! Hooray!”

Their mom’s firm voice called from the laundry room. “Great idea. And take your time. I’ve got lots to do.”

“Okay,” I addressed the boys. “I’m going to take a shower. You get dressed. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, I flopped on to the couch with as tall a glass of cold water as I could find. I hadn’t really expected the kids to be done by then, and was ready to just relax a bit.

Suddenly, my oldest appeared, wearing neither shirt nor shoes – but two pairs of shorts. One pair (his little brother’s) was on his head like a hat. He ran out in front of me and gave a superhero pose. “Look Daddy! Ta-Da!”

Then he looked over his shoulder, shouted “Whoo-Hoo!” and ran off.

Sure enough, his little brother ran in to the room next, wearing a shirt but no pants, and laughing hysterically. “He’s got my pants! He’s got my pants!”

I heard a “whoo-hoo!” echo in from another room, and the little boy with no pants took off running after it.

Their mom was next to make an appearance. “Did you see them?”


She was working hard not to laugh. “He took his pants.”

We heard another “woo-hoo!” followed by the sounds of bare feet slapping tile and the two half-dressed boys ran past us.

“It would have been nice,” I said. “If he’d put on some underwear before chasing after his pants.”

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