So I mail-ordered a pair of jeans once. The company shall remain nameless (It starts with Cold, ends with Creek, and there’s something liquid in the middle). I really needed a new pair of jeans. And they were on clearance! And I really didn’t want to go jeans shopping with 3 children under the age of 5. And if I have to hire a babysitter to buy jeans, then I don’t have any money left to buy jeans. So I ordered them. And something completely unexpected happened: They fit! I was so delighted that they actually fit me on a one-shot mail-order wonder that I decided to overlook the painted floral design at the bottom of one of the pants legs. What a bargain.

So the first time that a stranger stopped me to tell me that there was something on my pants, I shrugged it off. But then after hundreds upon hundreds of people stared, tapped me on the shoulder or whispered amongst themselves, I started to get a complex. And then one day when my tactless brother told me it looked like there was cow poop on my pants, I resigned myself to the fact that my jeans sucked. Can’t people recognize a floral embellishment when they see one?

(Go ahead, click on the picture.  I know you’re curious.)  Geesh!  Clearance, people!  Can’t you see they FIT me??  Well, I mean they did fit me before I “celebrated” the holidays all winter long and pushed their claim of “stretch” to the limits.  And while I took these pictures today, I noticed an Easter egg sticker smack dab in the middle of the butt.  Wonder how long that’s been there. . . .

So when have you endured shame for the sake of a bargain?