Today my one-year-old crawled out of her pants.
I should mention that they are a bit too big for her. I also didn’t actually watch her do it. All I know is that one minute, Zoe was on one side of the playroom wearing her pants. The next thing I know, she had crawled to the other side and her pants didn’t go with her.
Should I take this as some kind of sign? Are the pants of life I’m trying to wear too large? I feel like I make a pretty strong effort everyday. I try to be a good husband and a good daddy. I make an effort to be a good friend. I go to my job and I work like I’m supposed to. Is that enough?
I do all these things while trying to be true to myself. Like everyone, I have bad days and there is nothing I can do about them. It’s just reality. As I’ve said before, I also deal with depression and that can make the bad days a lot worse. But I acknowledge those feelings for what they are, I take my medication, and I do the best I can. Really, it’s all just another stitch in the pants I’m wearing. But is that enough?
Has my baby become some kind of infant Nostradamus? Will she and her sister be doomed to watch their father trip and fall because he couldn’t keep his pants of life up? And will I end up crawling towards failure, leaving behind pants I never should have put on in the first place? Is there no existential belt that can save me?
Of course it’s entirely possible, as well as much more likely, that Zoe is just too little right now for the pants she has on. Big pants on a little baby will ultimately not stay up.
Maybe I just need to get out more. Maybe I’m just using this moment as an excuse to talk about pants for no real reason. Yeah, that’s probably it.