Sensitivity
Sometimes people, in an effort to be sensitive to people who do not believe as they do, go a little too far. I'm sure you can think of examples where they go a lot and a lot too far, but in this case, I just mean a little.
I was wearing my butterfly patched jeans while babysitting yesterday and my charge became fascinated with an unpatched hole. The house keeper, who fits the image of a good old fashioned Oma, tried to educate my charge on the odd fashion trend of holey pants. My charge is two.
"Yes," she says, in that characteristic I'm-talking-to-a-young-child voice, "That is a hole. Holey pants are the style."
"Ah, dear woman," I wanted to say. "I'm not wearing these jeans because they are in, I'm wearing them because they are the most comfortable pants in the whole wide world."
And then I want to defend the reputation of these pants. They aren't holey because I paid an exhorbitant amount at a snooty store. Every hole is a battle wound. After all, I bought them at Ross after their previous owner kicked them off in the dressing room and abandoned them for elusive greener pastures. I happily paid the default Ross price because I recognized their amazing value, and since then they have been worn one out of every four days for the last three years.
No, holey pants are not my style. It just so happens that these jeans have been loved. I half expect that any day now they will become Real.
I was wearing my butterfly patched jeans while babysitting yesterday and my charge became fascinated with an unpatched hole. The house keeper, who fits the image of a good old fashioned Oma, tried to educate my charge on the odd fashion trend of holey pants. My charge is two.
"Yes," she says, in that characteristic I'm-talking-to-a-young-child voice, "That is a hole. Holey pants are the style."
"Ah, dear woman," I wanted to say. "I'm not wearing these jeans because they are in, I'm wearing them because they are the most comfortable pants in the whole wide world."
And then I want to defend the reputation of these pants. They aren't holey because I paid an exhorbitant amount at a snooty store. Every hole is a battle wound. After all, I bought them at Ross after their previous owner kicked them off in the dressing room and abandoned them for elusive greener pastures. I happily paid the default Ross price because I recognized their amazing value, and since then they have been worn one out of every four days for the last three years.
No, holey pants are not my style. It just so happens that these jeans have been loved. I half expect that any day now they will become Real.
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