I Can't Help Myself

This morning I walked out the door, looked down, and thought, "These are not the pants I thought they were." And it sounded so weird inside my head that I made up a giant soap opera story arc in which the Pants and I have a complicated relationship including, but not limited to, the following:

...... the possibility that we are long-lost siblings
...... but then we find out we're not, so we get married
...... but then they cheat on me with my half-sister
...... who turns out to be my mother
...... and I cut the brakes on their car & they roll over a cliff & die
...... or do they?
...... and the Pants come back, but they have amnesia
...... and I take them back b/c I feel so bad about the car thing
...... and we fall in love
...... again
...... except they're not the Pants; they're the Pants' evil twin
...... or are they?
...... but I marry them anyway
...... and they cheat on me
...... with my boss
...... who's a guy
...... and my former step-father
...... that I slept with, to get back at my mother
...... for sending me to boarding school
...... when she found out I was my grandmother's heir
...... and she got nothing
...... but the Pants and I reconcile
...... until they start stealing my money
...... and there's a giant confrontation
...... that lasts for two years
...... but it's ten minutes in Soap Opera Time
...... and there's one point where I scream out
...... "YOU'RE NOT THE PANTS I THOUGHT YOU WERE"
...... and slap them in the face
...... and stomp out
...... and sleep with the gardener
...... who's actually the Original Pants
...... returned from the dead
...... or are they?

And that's what I did in homeroom.

I am not right.

(p.s. Is it just me, or is that the best poem EVER?)