Defeated by Pants
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Defeated By Pants
Sometime in the last decade, my jeans stopped fitting. In theory, I should just be able to buy a bigger pair to reflect my expanding borders and general middle-age drift. But the problem has proved, like my body, to be less defined, and more shapeless, than I had hoped. I cinch my belt, and I feel the flatulent oof of mortality and failure as my pants sag perpetually, and somewhat mysteriously, kneeward.
“Wait a minute”, close readers familiar with pants are no doubt saying. “You are fatter, and yet your jeans are falling down? What?”
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