The Case of the Missing Pair of Jeans

On Saturday, I made plans to meet up with some friends to go shopping at Costco the following day. Since we had agreed to meet up at noon, I decided to sleep in and have an easy morning. Feeling anew from my refreshing repose, I opened my eyes to greet yet another glorious day. Golden rays of sunshine seeped into my window as the birds serenaded me with their warbling praises.



*record scratches*

Oh, wait. I didn't exactly wake up in that state. The first time that had I cracked open my tired, crusty eyes was at 7 a.m. That moment was more like this:


I did what any grumpy sensible person would have done when woken up far too early and promptly went back to bed. It took three more hours of proper rest before I felt physically ready to impose myself on the world (the World Wide Web, that is). Sitting in front of my Grandpa Computer, cup of coffee in hand, my mother sauntered into my room and began to pick out some dirty clothes that had been lazily deposited on top of my bed instead of the dirty clothes basket. While sorting each article into lights and darks, she inquired about the state of my pair of jeans.

In reality, I had been expecting to wear them that and I figured that I could at least get one more day out of them, but then I changed my mind and reasoned that it was time I wore the other clean pair that I thought I had hanging in my closet. I replied "yes" and Mom set the jeans aside.

By 11 o'clock, I had had enough time surfing the web and decided to finally prepare to go out with my friends. I made a beeline to the closet to seek the jeans.

That's strange, I thought. I could have sworn that they were here. Perhaps I had only imagined them being washed with the other pair of jeans and, in reality, they are still the in the dirty clothes' basket?

Okay, now this is getting weird. If they were not in the closet, nor were they in the basket, then maybe I had only tossed them on the bed and they somehow made their way under there?

I could understand losing sock, but a pair of jeans? When something as inexplicable as this happens, it becomes necessary to channel one's inner Sherlock Holmes and retrace one's steps.

AHA! The Yellow Bag! That's it!

So, now, the question was...where was this yellow bag??? My mind reflected on the possibility that I had left my clothes at Coffee Bean's house. That made me panic. If I had indeed left the Yellow Bag there, then that meant that I had only one pair of jeans and that I might face going out with my friends in a jean-less fashion statement.


Seeing that I was rapidly running out of time (I still needed to shower and get ready), I hurriedly sent Coffee Bean a message via Facebook to ask her if, by any chance, she had seen my left-behind jeans at her house. A mere seconds after my finger had clicked on the mouse, my eyes darted to my right and fixed steadily on the floor of my room.

That's right. The Yellow Bag was a mere 4 feet away from where I sat. It had been there for more than a week.

I sheepishly sent Coffee Bean another message entitled "Never Mind."


The time was already nearing 11:45 a.m. and I still needed to at least freshen up for the outing. I abandoned all hope of sporting my jeans and opted to instead bare my legs with a dress. This time, I knew for sure that my dress was in my closet! All I had to do was pluck it off the metal beam it had been perched on.

I was late in meeting my friends.

Barb the French Bean