Everyday Epiphany, humor

Scary Drawer

I inch open the middle drawer of my bureau . . . the one sandwiched between the one that holds my long sleeved t-shirts and the other that contains my jeans. The time has come. I procrastinate long enough.


“After Valentine’s Day,” I had said to myself leaving an open-ended loophole.

Trinidads tasted. Roses wilted. Middle drawer closed.


“When the snow melts,” I had stalled.

Chili con carne consumed. Snow shovels stored. Middle drawer shut.


“Definitely for Daylight Savings Time,” I had resolved.

Sunday time was up- literally.


Post 51 Folded Shorts 1


Now, I had to open the middle drawer, the scary drawer, the one that stores my neatly folded shorts. The shorts that fit in September before exchanging them for warmer wear. The ones that (fingers crossed) still fit after enjoying Valentine Trinidads paired with winter Malbecs and chili washed down with seasonal stouts.



Size is not my goal.

Garment manufacturers calculate shorts’ sizes based upon moon phases, zodiac signs, and tidal charts. Size labels have little to do with actual measurements of the hips that shorts encase.

Healthy is my goal.

My doctor uses scales and charts and tests to evaluate my well being.

I use shorts.

Fitting into my shorts after winter is one gauge that doesn’t require appointments or blood tests or body mass indices. Summer ’17 shorts that zip and button (with a standard deviation of an inch) for summer ’18 is within my acceptable parameters.

However, my shorts drawer is like a cold lake. I do not dive into either. I wade incrementally into both. I inch open the shorts drawer, withdraw samples from the spectrum, and proceed sequentially.


Stage 1- Standing On Shore ShortsPost 51 Stretch Waistband

The nylon exercise shorts with a malleable waist slip on easily. I could wear this roomy confidence builder over ski pants. I pass the baseline.



Post 51 Relaxed FitStage 2 – Dipping In A Toe

The Lee Relaxed Fit capris does what the label claims – fit in a relaxed manner. This laid back garment is the friend that suggests eating a second piece of chocolate cake because life’s too short. Even though I know “relaxed fit” is a euphemism for “you didn’t go to the gym as often as you should have this winter” fit I take it. They button and zip without sucking in my gut.


Stage 3 – Up To My Knees

The full cut cargo shorts with a standard waistband doesn’t have as generous a fit as I remember. I must have dried them on the “high” setting by mistake. Even so sitting and standing doesn’t put too much tension on the zipper.


Stage 4 – Just Below The Chin

The walking shorts testify that more and faster walking should have happened! I’m zippered and buttoned and will stay so as long as I don’t do anything active like breathe.


Post 51 3 inch ga[

Stage 5 – Plunging Under Water

The unforgiving teal Bermuda gaps three inches between button and corresponding hole. Employing the lay-on-the-bed-suck-in-my-stomach-pull-zipper–up-with-both-hands tactic works. However the zipper threatens to pop out of its stitching, and I’m doing an imitation of a sausage. I fear I may need Mike to cut me out of them.


Luckily March throws a little more lion and less lamb weather at me. I’m in reprieve. I’ll trade in the glass of Malbec for a tumbler of vodka and diet tonic, add a mile or two to the treadmill, and cut down on the pasta. In a few weeks I’ll give Bermuda another go.

By then it’ll be June and time to open an even scarier drawer- the one where my bathing suits lurk.

Post 51 Bathing Suits





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