Short Pants

I was the last kid in my age group to graduate to long pants, the coming of age event for boys in Kindersley, the prairie town where I grew up. That was the secular coming of age that was delayed by my mother's insistence that short pants were less slovenly than long pants, notwithstanding the dirty knees. Maybe it was easier to wash the knees than wash and iron multiple pants. I was also the only boy in my age group that had to attend Sunday School and when I finally prevailed with her to absent myself after my confirmation, since at that time my father didn't go to church and therefore could argue my case. Besides that I was the only boy in Sunday School except my young brother and he didn't count. It was my religious coming of age! The delay in my coming of age from a secular delay and spiritual absence, determined my fate that I could never reach cool, or so I grieved then. Down deep now, I would have grieved if my children became cool too soon in life, so in retrospect, I thank God for my mother! Moreover I had bow-legs, a genetic disorder since the paternal family tree records these parenthesis' in photographs with swimming costumes from long ago, otherwise in the forbears they are masked always by pictures taken  deceitfully in long pants. It wasn't fair. Despite the bow-legs, none of our family, to my knowledge, developed osteoarthritis of the knees since the bow-legs arose from bilateral Tibia Vara. and therefore the knee joints were preserved. I think that was lucky. Uncool and bow-legs but lucky in the end. It has taken me a long time to realize it isn't me, it's us and it's good!