Sweater Pants

Katiedid Langrock
Fri, 18 Dec 2020 21:00:00 -0800
Lifestyle

"I'm ready!"

My 5-year-old walked in with her legs through the sleeves of a sweater.

"Um," I said, looking down at her rather unusual outfit.
Updated: Sat Dec 19, 2020

"I'm ready!"

My 5-year-old walked in with her legs through the sleeves of a sweater.

"Um," I said, looking down at her rather unusual outfit.

"What? You said, 'Put something on to cover my legs, because it's cold outside.'"

"I meant pants," I said.

"OK. Where are my pants?"

I have no idea.

Coming home five months after throwing all your worldly belongings into random bins and storing them in random closets is, well, a little like running around without any pants on. It's confusing, disorienting, exposing, and a tad chilly.

Our decision to travel the country in an RV in June was impulsive, which means little (read: no) time was put forth in organizing our packed belongings, labeling boxes and noting where we stored them as we emptied our home to make room for the long-term house sitter. At the time, I didn't think it would be a big deal. "When we come back, we'll unpack all the boxes and find everything," I thought. "When we come back, everything will be restored just as it was."

I'm now on day four of the same outfit. My daughter has been sans pants for nearly a week. (That said, the sweater-legs look is growing on me. They look a little like MC Hammer pants, but knitted and with glitter and bows.) With our RV (and our belongings) in the shop and the unlabeled bins in our basement an endless mystery, I'm regretting not buying my kids the socks, underwear and jogging outfits I got every year for Hanukkah as a kid. We'd be faring slightly better with our fashion and hygiene.

We are only home until January 1, which is not enough time to unpack all the boxes to find what we need but plenty of time to desperately need what we can't find.

Coming home to your house when someone else lives in your house is a little like the feeling you get in high school when you tell your best friend that it's totally fine if she dates your ex-boyfriend. ("Seriously, it's super-duper totally fine.") Every time you see them together, you want to scream, "Hey! That's mine!"

Why are there new pillows on my couch? Who decided that putting this kettle on my stove was a good idea? Where is my kitchen trash bin? Oh, you got rid of it because you are a better person than I am and committed to a zero-waste lifestyle? Well, that's just great! Now the house is dating Mother Teresa!

There is absolutely a direct correlation between the new soy candles on the mantel and organic butterfly-shaped oat milk soaps in the bathroom and my copious intake of chocolate and ice cream. Why am I so sad about the house's moving on without me? I'm the one who said I wanted a break!

I may need to get a grip. This would perhaps be easier if I knew the etiquette of what I am, in fact, allowed to grip on to. When the house sitter moved in, she asked that we remove all our cutlery, dishes, pots and pans from the kitchen so she could bring in her own. We did as she asked. Presumably, those items are still in a box somewhere, hidden behind a bin of tax records and under a bag of feminine products. When she left to visit her daughter for the holidays, the house sitter left all her stuff in place, as I would expect. But now I'm not sure whether these items in my home are items I'm allowed to use. I'm guessing I should steer clear of the forks, but should I also avoid the throw pillows? Obviously, I'm not going to walk around in her clothes (which says something, seeing as we are on day four of sweater pants), but is it unreasonable to assume I have access to some of her stuff — perhaps the baking trays — when she has access to everything in my home? I am asking honestly, because I honestly don't know.

Luckily, the holiday gear was easy to find because it was stored away in the same corner it is always stored away in. And that was why we were truly excited to come home — for a little familiar holiday cheer. Santa may not get his freshly baked cookies this year, but we did find the waffle maker! Now the question is whether extra syrup for him will get us all extra pants in our stockings.