Do These Pants Look Good On Me?

Do These Pants Look Good On Me?

I come in from a dog walk, my husband greets me, strikes a pose and asks the title question. He is wearing a pair of brand new jeans. He wants a simple and enthusiastic yes! Instead he gets an incredulous look and a metric ton of snark.

Are you kidding me with this!?

He hasn’t bought new jeans since the pandemic. It’s been months and months since house arrest. We do go out now. I’ve had to accept the fact that relaxer pants, as he calls them, are the only option. I have said quite a few times, go get yourself some new Levis. Lord have mercy does he look good in new Levis. How does he have these Levis loooking trousers and not know it? Have these fantastic pants been in his drawer unnoticed for a year and a half? Are you telling me he could have worn these jeans to our anniversary dinner? I am paralyzed by bafflement.

After my attempt to physically convey total aghast-ness, I switch gears and yell, You look freaking amazing! Those are the best pants I’ve seen on you in ages!

So, they look ok?

I glare at him.

Just say yes.

Yes. Yes! If by ok, you mean great than yes! Where have these been?

You think the cut is okay?

What are you talking about!?

Is this style alright?

You have only worn one style of jeans the entire time I have known you and this is that style. These jeans are perfect on you.

They don’t look weird anywhere?

Where?! Where do they look weird? Point to the problem.

He just shrugs.

They could not look one bit better. Please do not take them off.

So, you like them?

I am screaming what he wants to hear in an aggrieved tone. Why isn’t he be placated?


He sips his coffee then exits the kitchen.

I often ask him if my hair looks okay, my long straight hair which hasn’t been out of a braid or ponytail since I was eight years old. Not much to comment on. But he wants you to know he always says it looks nice and then says nothing else. What a lovely man. Doesn’t he look good in his new pants.

Killer Pic

Killer Pic

There’s an internet thing that goes:  You just died, the 10th pic in your gallery is what killed you. It’s been around for quite a while, but I missed it until this past week. It got me curious enough to open up the photos on my phone and count back ten. Pretty weird. Weird enough to share.