It's in the Genes..

I don't hate shopping. I hate to GO shopping. I'm ok once I am actually in the store. I just don't like the getting in the car, driving to the store, parking...you know. But I needed new jeans and no matter what angle I looked at the half dozen or so pair I have, none were really nice enough for a "smart casual" outing. So, I am at the store, exploring the inventory and a young lady approaches and asks if she can help me find something.
"I'm looking for jeans"
"Okay...we have Slim Fit, Boot Cut, Low-rise, High Rise, Five-Pocket, Regular fit or Relaxed fit. "
"What's the difference between Regular and Relaxed?"
"I'm not sure"
"Well, if you point me towards the jeans..I will look around and figure it out."
I wandered around through the stacks of jeans, longing for the days when my Mom would take us to Lobells to get...well, Jeans. Not low-rise or boot cut. Jeans. And she always picked out a package of the Denim Iron-on patches that would extend the life of the jeans well into my teen years. She knew that we were only a few days away from the first skinned knee incident that for some reason would easily tear through one of the strongest fabrics ever invented.

I tried on a pair of Regular fit jeans in my normal size...Whew!. They must have been cut smaller. Too tight EVERYWHERE.  I walked out of the fitting room and back to the stacks of jeans.
The young salesperson was back.
"Find everything ok?"
"I guess," I lied. Then I grabbed a pair of RELAXED FIT in the next larger size..this was unexplored terrain for me. Still tight.
"How are those relaxed fit?" She asked, sweetly.
"Do you have anything a little more relaxed?....Like maybe Perry Como jeans?"
"I never heard of Terry Como" she answered.
 So, I grabbed the next larger pair and went again into the dressing room. As I pulled on the jeans I avoided looking into the full-length mirror, because the only one looking back at me was my Father.
"Well, Pop....I've arrived. Move over, it's my turn."

At the register, my wife picked up the price tag and wide-eyed said: "THAT'S what you're paying for these jeans?"
"They're designer," I blurted out.
"Yeah? Who?
"Hindenburg" I growled...."Let's go"

Relaxed Fit, My Ass.
Exactly.