Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

I have had this story rolling around in my head for a while, not knowing exactly what to do with it.  So in honor of a certain friend and her kimono dragon, I figure I will go ahead and tackle it.

A little over a year ago, my Mother and Father-in-law celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.  Our posse headed down to Baton Rouge, and checked into one of those hotels where the breakfast is included in the price of the room.  These work out perfectly when you have lots of people in town for the same event.  The early birds can get up without disturbing the late birds.  The kids sit better longer because when else are they offered sugary cereal, donuts, and muffins all at one pop.  And, if they aren't good, the room, spankings and time out are only a couple of floors away.  

The girls and I, medium birds (because of the time it takes to herd them anywhere, even with the lure of sugar), step off the elevator and join John, his Godfather and wife at the table.  I cannot begin to explain what a treat this is.  I had only met them twice but some people do not conform to the laws of space and time.  They are so full of life that their personalities expand to fill the room.  Their presence leaves an imprint.  Julie and Jeff are those people.

The last time I had seen them, we were packing up the house which had finally sold and John's parents were staying with us because a hurricane was inflicting itself on Louisiana.  Jeff and Julie arrived, instantly bringing some invisible ingredient of happiness.  Jeff had tubes going in and out of weird places.  While he sat in my living room entertaining us and making us laugh, he was busy fighting cancer.  He wanted to pet Moxie, on his lap, with all the tubes.  I look at him dubiously, thinking this was probably a bad idea.  He proceeds to tell about the last time he had a dog on his lap that actually bit through the tubes, he was worried he had poisoned the dog and was then reprimanded by his doctor for compromising his already compromised immune system with dog slobber.  He tells this whole thing with a twinkle in his eye.  But Julie confirms it is all true.  I have been accused of having no sense of humor, which I prove by immediately taking Moxie to her cage.

All his stories are like this; fun, mischievous, full of adventure.  7 decades and terminal cancer cannot keep some people from living life fully. Which is exactly why Julie and Jeff had hopped on a plane to help dear friends commemorate their big 50.  This is how my family got the pleasure of spending each morning at the hotel breakfast with them.  And since they were sans car, we mini-vaned them around to all the events.  Which is how the traveling pants came to be in my car. 

Part of what makes Jeff great, is Julie.  Lets face it, you can never underestimate the value of a good straight man.  Julie does this with wit, love and amazingly good humor.  Some of the things she says and hears without cracking a smile.  I would never be able to keep a joke going so long, I get the giggles and give up the ruse.

The afternoon of the event we head to our rooms, scruffy, smelly, you know, typical Saturday comfortable slobs and reappear, a few hours later looking as if our fairy God Mother had had her way with us.  We emerge from the elevators, full of sparkle.  Seriously, we were literally full of sparkle, the 50^th anniversary is the gold one and we were gold right down to our toes.  Jeff and Julie emerge looking fabulous although from the corner of my eye something seems off with Julie’s wrap but I get side-tracked with my daughters who are busy telling anyone who will listen that their Nana bought them these beautiful golden princess dresses and do they want to watch them twirl, and have they ever in their lives seen anything so…..yes, this is when I mercifully drag them to the car. 

Once I get the kids to stop twirling and sit still enough to fasten in, we are off!  Julie and I are having a pleasant conversation when she adjusts her shawl.  She gives it a weird look and starts pulling it to one side.  Before my very eyes, this shawl starts to reveal itself.  It is actually a pair of navy blue polyester pants with elastic waistband.  These are without a doubt, the most unattractive pair of pants on the planet.  Julie pulls it completely off and holds the pants in front of her contemplating them.  In her typical dry fashion and New York accent she says “Oh my, can you imagine if I had wawked into the party wrapped in these?  Everyone would want a pair.” 

And in that moment, my own sisterhood of the traveling pants was created.  We went on to have a wonderful night, had one last breakfast gathering in the morning then drove our posse back to Dallas.  I am not known for having a tidy car, in fact I am sort of known for driving around in a garbage can.  So it took a few weeks for me to discover a dark blob trying to blend in with the carpet. 

I know I need to send Julie her pants but I have this crazy sentimental attachment to them.  Particularly since the funny man left the building only a few months after the party.  They are all the things that I love about life.  Julie was right, she wore them so well, I had to have a pair.