Today I was wearing a pair of khaki pants that someone gave me about ten years ago. They used to be too big on me, and now they're too tight. They've always been too short. The button has been missing for a few years. Today the zipper broke. I discovered this when I had to pee really bad, and the zipper was open at the bottom but still zipped up. So I pretty much had to rip it apart in a hurry. It was a liberating moment when I decided to get rid of these pants right then and there. But what to do with them? I certainly couldn't give them to anyone. I hated to take up landfill space, but I decided the only thing to do was throw them in the garbage. On my way to the garbage can, I spotted my kids, who were lolling around in the living room, looking bored. On an impulse, I tossed my pants to them and said, "Who wants to destroy my pants?" Were they ever excited! Their eyes lit up and they headed outside, saying things like, "Get the scissors!" "Bring the markers!" "Hey, I know! Ask Mom for a bowl and some food coloring!" They were busy for a long time and made quite a mess.
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