where are the pants?

For the past week, the big question on everybody's lips, has been "Where are you Mom's pants?" It is kind of comical and it is kind of frustrating.

Last week, I had Mom try on her brown pants - she could not even get them zipped. She has definitely gained a few pounds since moving into the assisted living residence. So I took the brown pants home with me, telling her I was going to hem them for her. (Liar liar pants on fire!) I checked the rest of her clothes: three pairs of jeans, one pair of blue chino, two pair of black slacks, they are all the same size as the brown pants that don't fit.

Ok, time to buy some new pants for Mom. How do you buy someone clothes, of an unknown size, with out having their body with you? (Did I tell you I hate shopping?!)

Then the phone calls started.
I got a late night call from one of Mom's friends "When I was up to see your Mom today, she was in a panic, she can't find her pants, I helped her look all through her apartment, in all the drawers, and the pants are nowhere."
Well, they were there in her closet, yesterday when I was there? I reply.
"We talked with the aides, and we went down to the laundry to check. No one has seen her pants."
I explain to Mom's friend, about Mom needing larger slacks, and that I would be up next week with some new clothes.

I even got a call from the director of the assisted living "Do you know where your Mother's pants are?"
"Nope, I saw them last week when I was last there, but I'll be up with new ones tomorrow."

Yesterday, I was greeted with cheers by the receptionist. "Oh! Your Mom will be so happy to get new pants." This is getting comical, I thought.

But Mom was not at all pleased. "I want my old pants, I don't want new pants, look at that size, they are going to be huge on me, I don't wear that size, I want my old pants, I just want my jeans, feel these they feel like crap, they are going to be too long, I don't need new pants, don't make me try these on, I don't want new pant, I just want my old pants."

"Don't make me try these on." she cries. If you had walked by the door and heard her, you would have thought I was torturing her.
She doesn't understand she has gotten bigger, she doesn't comprehend that she can't wear her old pants. Her ONE pair of old jeans fit - so she's got enough clothes.

I'm trying to be UP about this.
Look how nice these slacks look on you, won't it be nice to have new clothes for spring?
"I don't want new pants, don't take my jeans away."
I'm not going to take your jeans away, I know you like wearing them.
Around and around the conversation goes. I get her to try on some of the pants, she won't try on any of the pull-over jerseys I brought. As she's slowly trying on the clothes, I'm peeking in all her closets and drawers, looking for the now famous missing slacks. There are NO pants anywhere. Where could they have gone to?

All the new clothes are spread all over her bed. My patience is growing thin. Besides the missing pants, Mom's mattress pad is also missing, where did that go to? Did I write her name on that? Will it return eventually? Then I see that Mom has four pillows on her bed. I know she only owns three, I'll have to return the extra one to the laundry room. The fourth pillow is heavy and lumpy like an old feather pillow.

But it's not a pillow, it's a pillowcase full of slacks. Hiding under her other pillows.
All the pants have been found, but the mystery remains.