I Like Your Pants
The elastic was stretched thin on the worn red cotton gingerbread-printed pajama pants. My second-hand find from years ago slipped dangerously low despite my bread-and-sugar belly. The chickens never seemed bothered by my fashion sense; they fluttered to greet me that morning as I delivered their feed. “I like your pants.” My little son’s words jolted me out of my morning reverie wherein I was actually having coffee in an actual coffee shop with one of my actual friends. He h