Forever in Blue Jeans

She waited until a crowd had gathered.  She paused until there was a lull in the conversation.  She saw her opening and she pounced,

"Has anyone even noticed that I have new blue jeans on?" 

The response was, I'm sure just what she'd been hoping for.  All eyes turned to her and admiring gazes noticed her new jeans and everything that she was in them. 

I had gone to the store by myself earlier in the day to pick up this and that and had come across a "too good to pass up" deal on her jeans.  I laid them on her bed and promised her that she could try them on after her nap.  There was much discussion about why the tags must be left on until after the try on.  Finally agreeing not to pull the tags, she napped.

I heard her feet hit the floor and minutes later she appeared.  Blue jeans fitting perfectly, tags fluttering in her wake. "They fit really good, except for around the waist right here Mom.  I know that's why they put these adjuster things here.  Could you fix these for me?"  We fixed "the adjuster things" and she found the perfect top, clean and in her drawer.  All was right in her world.

I remember another girl, a good bit older than Kate, who was in need of some jeans.  I do not know the reason why my Dad was given the job of taking me on the search.  I do know why he accepted--he did not know what lay ahead.  I remember entering the first store, and trying on a pair of jeans that were OK, but surely I reasoned, better existed, so on we went into every store in the mall that sold jeans. 

I tried on many, many pairs. 

Dad, ever the long-suffering father of three girls, accompanied me every step of the way offering no complaint.

A few important discoveries were made that fateful day.  First, it is possible that the first pair of jeans tried on during a shopping trip with one's father could be and probably are the best ones for the occasion.  Second, my Dad is a patient but intelligent man.  Upon exiting the mall with my new jeans bagged and at my side, I heard a calm, smiling voice,

"Well babe, you can mark this date twice on your calander."

"What do ya mean?" I asked.

"Mark it as the first time I took you to look for a pair of jeans, and as the last time."

I'm not sure if my sisters, younger both than I, have blamed me all these years for ruining him, though it would seem that I did.  Dad forever handed the "clothing" reins back to Mom and to my knowledge, never darkened the door of the Gap again.  Never. 

But he never missed a volleyball game.  Ever.