Catastrophe averted

The phone just rang.

As I ran down the stairs to answer it, my jeans fell down. (Off my ass, not as in 'my jeans fell down the stairs.')
I made it down, w/ hand hitching the denim as I raced for the call (which I missed.) But wouldn't that be a sight for Chris to come home to? Me, crumpled in a broken heap in the stairwell... with my jeans bunched around my legs.

I mean, this losing weight thing is great... but fuck. I love these jeans. And somehow, baggy comfort doesn't work the same when you have to use a belt.