IWSG: The Motherhood of The Traveling Pants

                                                         


It's time for another edition of the Insecure Writer's Support Group. Be sure to visit Alex J. Cavanaugh and the rest of the talented writers who are always willing to lend a helping hand.

                                        The Motherhood of The Traveling Pants

                                   


When my mom moved into a nursing home a few years ago, I decided that I wasn't going to take any chances. After many falls, she had been in and out of nursing homes for rehab throughout the years and I had noticed that some of her clothes went missing. So every week I brought her clothes home to wash.

Then the calls started coming.

Mom: I have no pants.

Me: What do you mean you have no pants?

Mom: There are no pants in my closet.

Me: How can your pants be missing? They couldn't get mixed up in everyone else's  laundry, because I wash them myself.

Mom: If you don't believe me come and see for yourself. I'm hanging up now, because I have to get ready for dinner.

Me: But Mom it's only 3 p.m.

This happened several times and I searched high and low in her room, but couldn't find any sign of her missing pants. So I went to her favorite department store that she retired from years ago, with her cherished employee discount card in hand, to buy her new pants. 

But then the new pants started to disappear.

At one point I suggested that my brother install a camera in her closet to see who was taking her pants, but her favorite child was too busy bringing her groceries, taking her to bingo, rearranging her room and doting on her other needs.

It really cheered me up when my mom introduced me to a resident's daughter who thought my brother was an only child.

Then one day, as I was hanging up my mom's wash, I noticed a pair of pants that I had never seen before. I checked the label and they were a women's 'tall.'

In my mom's prime she was a statuesque five foot five, so I knew trouble was afoot.

When I asked my mom, she explained that one of the staff gave them to her after she told them that her pants kept disappearing.

Me: So she stole an old pair of pants from someone else and gave them to you to replace a nice new pair of pants that I bought you? 

Mom: Well I needed black pants and they fit when I'm sitting down. I have no problem with that.

Suddenly, I had an urge to watch Robin Hood.

Recently, my mom's favorite department store announced that it was going out of business. The store holds many special memories for all of us. Though my mom worked in women's better sportswear, she knew every inch of the store and always found our family the most beautiful clothes for every occasion.

When we got married, she bought us lovely china that we still use, as well as other household items. She even helped us pick out furniture that has lasted for years.

But when I offered to take her to the store before it closes, she told me that she has a new favorite store with a great selection and even better deals.

Then she said to take a look inside her closet where there was a nice selection of pants that I hadn't seen before in several different colors.

I couldn't imagine where she had possibly gone shopping without me.

Then she explained that she got them just an elevator ride away at the Lost & Found.

When my resourceful mom told the woman who worked there that many of her pants went missing, she gave her the pick of the litter. She now has some great spring/summer jeans and casual pants.

Me: But what if you're wearing other people's pants who still need them?

Mom: Then they should have checked with the Lost & Found.

Me: So an eye for an eye?

Mom: More like pants for pants.