a tall girl's lament

I'm tall.  Always have been, always will be-
(unless that whole shrinking as you age thing is true... but that's besides the point)

Growing up, I was tall.  But not only was I tall...
I was skinny and not just skinny... SKEEEENY...
like didn't weigh 100 pounds until I was in high school- even though I was like 5 foot 6 or something.

Needless to say, shopping for pants was a wee bit difficult. 
(actually- more like the most impossible task known to all mankind.)

While everyone else got to be cool and wear their pants cuffed  cutely over their multi-colored scrunchy socks, I was doing good just to get pants that covered said scrunchy socks WITHOUT the cuff.

Everyone else got to wear the matchy-matchy sweatsuits.  Do those pants come long enough?  Nope.

And don't even get me started on dress pants and khakis...

All this has created a very real phobia in my life.  I am so afraid of high-waters...  pants NOT on the ground, if you will...  My pants have to practically DRAG the ground for me to feel they are acceptable.

I refused to wear capri pants for the first 5 years they were popular, claiming "I've spent my entire childhood trying NOT to wear pants that look like this... why would I ever do this on purpose?"

And the cute "ankle" pants short girls get to wear?  Forget about it!

I've always dreamed of walking into a store, breezily grabbing a pair of pants and wisking them home to fit my inseam perfectly.  Unfortunately, it goes more like this:

Locate my size... then find them in length LONG... then pull out every pair of long to find the LONGEST one... Only to have my hopes and dreams dashed in the dressing room when they're STILL not long enough.  (you think i'm kidding, but I so am not!)

Anyway, all this to say- I now have a boy.  A boy who, at age three, is 45 inches tall- and weighs 45 pounds.  You do the math- that's one TALL, SKEEEEENY boy.  So you can only imagine my horror when Micah dressed him the other day and his socks were peeking out of the top of his shoes.  I almost hyperventilated... pulled his pants way saggy down and felt a little better. 

Immediately I told Micah that we HAVE to get him new pants.  These are entirely unacceptable.  He told me to chill out- John Mark's 3... he doesn't even know the difference in long and short pants.

But little does he know- I have plans to use our clothing money to hit up the old navy jeans sale this weekend and buy my boy some new jeans- size 5 slim.

Because heaven forbid he have to go through life wearing pants that are too short like his mom.