Monday, February 28, 2011

Clingy pants

I have a new definition for clingy pants.  Silas is fine to play by himself as long as I sit in the room with him but if I so much as walk to the fridge for a soda he has to come with me and has also developed the bad habit of hanging on to mu pant legs for standing support.  He has the balance and strength to stand on his own but he is just scared.  Well, this habit has lead to a few falls because my wardrobe of workout pants (that have never seen the inside of a gym) and pajama pants (that see too little of the bed) are not the sturdiest handhold.

 Well, today as I washed dishes he felt the need to stand right there with me clinging to my thin cotton capri's,the ones that I wore for the weeks after giving birth- and since, which speaks to their looseness.  He was very busy trying to hang on the cabinet door and what not and in his wiggles he managed to pull my pants to my ankles.  So, there I stood washing dishes in my t-shirt and my pastel granny panties.  He didn't miss a beat, he just reached up and clung (clinged? clang?) to the saggy back of said granny panties.

Whatever, I still got the dishes done.


  1. You are cracking me up! I love a good de-pants-ing. (is that even a word??)

  2. LOLOLOLOL!!!! OMGosh!!! That was so funny!!!