My 11 year old lost her pants.

 
Losing your pants actually tops the list of ‘weirdest things to lose’ by any of our children.

 
“I left my water bottle at the pool.” That one became old after the third or fourth time I heard it but at least it was a hand-held accessory that could potentially have fallen out of a bag despite the child’s best efforts to pack it. But pants?

 
Hanna walked in the door from volleyball last night wearing the following eclectic ensemble; a t-shirt, a heavy coat and shorts small enough to fit a baby squirrel.

 
It was a strange look and one that required a jovial, “Hi Sweetie! So where are your pants?”

 
“Oh, I forgot them.”

 
Um, where?

 
“Oh, at volleyball. They’re on the bench.”

 
So, you know exactly where you left them but you still opted to walk out the door and come home without them?

 
Also, did you happen to notice it’s freezing outside and you’re wearing a winter coat? Didn’t something about your internal algorithms suggest that thermally, things were completely out of whack?

 
“Mom, can you just give me the benefit of the doubt?”

 
Okay, was there a fire in the building and you had to race out the door grabbing just one personal belonging and you chose your jacket leaving just the one other item (your pants) behind?

 
Greg started his famous speech about how if he had lost his pants when he was a kid he would have had to buy himself a vehicle to drive to the store to purchase a replacement pair.

 
I nodded as contractually I’m under obligation as per the “united front” clause in our marital agreement but even I stopped buying these preposterous stories years ago.

 
Somewhere there’s a squirrel without her shorts.