I’m afraid. Very afraid.
I haven’t had the nerve to wear them yet. I pull them out of my drawer. I look at them. I admire them. I even try them on, but they never leave the house.
I have visions that as soon as I leave the house, I will:
- Step in a puddle
- Spill my coffee all over myself
- Lean against a newly painted hand rail
- Sit in gum
I’m afraid of White Pants.