In which my dad learns about purses and jeans sizes.
My dad:Your sister's crazy. Who'd want a $200 purse?
My dad:What is it with ladies purses, anyway?
Me:(glancing at my purse) What do you mean?
My dad:How did that start--I mean, why do women use them? Doesn't it get tiring carrying a bag around all the time?
Me:(stands up and turns around) See those pockets?
My dad:... Yes?
Me:What can I fit in them?
Me:How many things do you think I could fit in my pockets? Honestly. How many things?
My dad:Doesn't look like you could fit much.
Me:A pack of Orbit, some folded bills, and that's about it. That's why we use purses--because we can't carry our shit in our pockets like you do.
My dad:But I can fit my wallet, my keys, and my cigarettes in my pockets!
Me:And your jeans also fit the way they should.
My dad:I'm almost afraid to ask, but what do you mean?
Me:Your jeans are sized by, what, your inseam and waist, right?
My dad:... Aren't yours?
Me:I'm a size 3.
My dad:3 what?
Me:No, just a 3. A size 3.
My dad:What does that mean?
Me:I actually have no idea. I'm a size 3 in these jeans. In some other jeans, I'm a 5. I'm a 7 in my favorite pair of shorts.
My dad:Wait, it's not the same?
Me:Nope. A size 3 in one brand's jeans is completely different from a size 3 in another brand.
My dad:That's fucking stupid! How do you shop for them?!
Me:With great difficulty. This is why when you ask me what I did during the week and despite the fact I know you won't care I sometimes tell you I found a pair of jeans. Because finding a pair of jeans that fit and fit well is like finding the Holy Grail with your name encrusted in diamonds on it