Making them fit

The human memory is fascinating. Years will pass and you might not think of a specific moment. Then, out of nowhere, that memory comes back into existence. 

At the library today a patron took out a chick lit novel. The book cover featured a woman lying on a bed and trying to make her jeans budge over her upper thighs. I suppose it was meant to be an image that us "average" women could relate to, however the woman on the cover was fairly thin. I wondered why she would have to struggle to make her pants slide over her upper thighs; her upper thighs were not that fleshy anyway. 

Instantly, I flashbacked to an image from my childhood. A spring green and bright yellow floral comforter covers a bed. The headboard and base of the bed is white wicker. Above the headboard hang two wicker beach-themed pieces. A wedding photo of my mother and father is on the side wall, as is a marriage certificate. The room is always cold and smells like mothballs. 

It is my mother's master bedroom. After my dad passed away, my mother refused to sleep in the bed. For years, she slept on the couch in the living room. The master bedroom was reserved for "getting ready" for work and for doing the "pants maneuver." 

The pants maneuver occurred whenever my mother had a pair of jeans which no longer fit. She would lie flat on the bed, jeans at her ankles, squirming and squirming in order to get the pants over her stomach. When she grew desperate, she would take the waistband of the jeans and make a vertical cut on the right and left sides, thus giving herself more "space" to get into. 

I watched her to do this pants maneuver countless times in life. At one point, she just gave up and began wearing complete elastic-waisted pants. 

I've never done the pants maneuver myself, despite having jeans for which I have grown too big. Those jeans still remain in my dresser: the size 8 Limited jeans that I have not worn since college, the intentionally-tight-as-anything stretch jeans that my sister gave me, the size 13 juniors' denim shorts that I promised I would "lose weight for" and not have to wear again (now they don't fit), and others. 

My mother's pants maneuver had an effect on me: when jeans don't fit, I face reality and buy a new pair with a higher size. Many more women could use a dose of reality.