I used to think that parents were joking when they talked about how kids “went through” pants. I thought they must be exaggerating – especially city parents. I mean, how could a city kid put holes in the knees of pants? City kids aren’t outside climbing trees or playing kick-the-can or tromping through the woods, right?
Wrong. As proof I offer this pile of knee-less pants, culled only from the last few months. Apparently you can put holes in pants by repeatedly slide-tackling a soccer ball in the (carpeted) hallway outside our apartment or by diving for third base (also in the hallway outside our apartment, which is our default playground).
Husband, bless him, tried those iron-on patches but to no avail; little fingers picked away at the edge and peeled the patches right off.
Yes. You’re right. Patches could be sewn on and probably I could do that while watching “Project Runway” as inspiration but if I were sewing while watching TV, how could I also be checking facebook status updates?
I’ve turned a few pairs into shorts, and another pair made for a great pirate costume last Halloween, and the particularly shredded I bring to the textile recycling stand in Union Square (a great place to dispose of holey socks, too-ratty gym clothes, and de-elasticized underwear)…but these holey jeans sit in my closet in a bag and make me feel guilty. They’re in too much disrepair to give away but they’re not totally beyond repair. I know I should forego facebook for an evening and just stitch, stitch, stitch, but somehow that chore never makes it to the top of my list.
And so it goes: more slide-tackles, more holes in the knees, another pair of pants shoved in the bag in the closet. Maybe the thing to do is save all these knee-less wonders and then one day, after the boys have grown up, moved away, and are dealing with their own apparel, I can pull out all these little pants, rip them up, and make a quilt…that way, I don’t have to feel guilty now. I can delay the guilt for about fifteen years, when I will decide there’s no way in hell I’m ever making a quilt.