I Wrote a Poem About Maternity Clothes

Recently, I was forced to confront an undeniable fact:

My pants did not close. Not on their own, not with a hair tie, not in a muffin-toppy kind of way, not with the assistance of a pair of pliers while lying flat on the floor, not at all. So, skipping and whistling like characters in a Disney movie, off we went to the maternity store. Which is conveniently located next door to a restaurant that serves, among other things, excellent - and huge - burgers. I can't imagine a dining establishment more appropriate for elastic-waist pants.

When we got home from our shopping trip, I had to make room in the closet for my roomy new purchases. It was bittersweet to put away clothing that I love wearing but know I won't be able to fit into for some time to come, and I started to think about Goodnight Moon (a book we're obviously going to have to purchase for the little one if we can't find our own vintage copies!) So I wrote this:

Goodnight jeans and goodnight tank tops,
Goodnight shorts and too-tight flip flops.

Goodnight stilettos and boots with heels,
Goodnight dresses that made me squeal.

Goodnight button-down shirts and blazers,
Goodnight pants made perfect by tailors.

Goodnight skirts with nipped-in waists,
Goodnight business suits never my taste.

Goodnight Spanx and B-cup bras,
Goodnight shirts that gave my mother pause.

Goodnight trousers that close with a button,
Goodnight anything not produced in cotton.

Goodnight things I love to wear,
Goodnight clothing everywhere.