He told me he he doesn’t like jeans.
A BOY who doesn’t like jeans!
I mean, REALLY? Boys and jeans go together like a horse and carriage, peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper, Rosemary and Thyme, Laurel and Hardy, George Burns and Gracie Allen… well you get the idea.
Heck, when I was a kid, I longed for jeans. Where I grew up jeans were cool – especially Levi’s. And I WANTED Levi’s, no other jeans were good enough – not Calvin Klein, Wrangler, Lee or Sassoon. No. I needed traditional, button-fly Levi’s. But don’t cry for me, I had jeans - I just didn’t own a pair of Levi’s until I was in college.
Harrison, however, has already owned several pairs of Levi's (Thanks to Big Brother, re-sale stores and friends). Although it’s not about Levi’s; he doesn’t like ANY jeans. He admonished me again this morning when I made him wear jeans to school (instead of exercise pants),
“Mom, remember, I don’t like jeans.”
I remember, but you’re wearing them anyway.
I mean after all, who DOESN’T own at least ONE pair of jeans to wear occasionally?
Then again, there was my mom.
She owned 77 pairs of polyester, elastic-band pants - in a rainbow of colors.
Not one pair of jeans.
Apparently the no-jeans gene skips a generation.
Hosted by Cecily and Lolli


