There’s No Such Thing as Assless Chaps

I took the Bean to the cowboy store the other day because Halloween’s coming up and I see that as a GREAT opportunity to get my kid into some chaps. And it was funny and funny things happened there, and when I say funny I mean HOLYSHITBALLS you want $75 for a pair of toddler-sized CHAPS? HA HA THAT IS SOOOOO FUNNY!!! but the funniest part was later when I told my friend “the Gay Goose” (which, please note, is NOT his real name) about the cowboy store and he was all, “There’s a place you can BUY COWBOYS? Why has no one told me this?

I’ll take three!” and I said, “But you didn’t see how BURLY these guys were,” and he was all “Oh, honey. Honey, honey, honey” and then he just closed his eyes and shook his head and then I understood. And later I told him about the $75 chaps and before the word was out of my mouth he was all, ”Wait a minute– You wanted ASSLESS CHAPS for the Bean?” and I was all, ”When the hell did I say ASSLESS?” and he was all, “Oh.

I guess I just heard you wrong” but we both knew it meant that he’s totally worn assless chaps before, and I really didn’t know what to say to that except “Huh.”

So THEN we launched into a whole discussion about assless chaps and how there really IS no such thing because chaps, by their very definition, do not HAVE an ass. The pants you wear under them have an ass, unless you’re the Gay Goose and headed out for a big night on the town, apparently.

I’m sure the idea of “assless chaps” came from people who wear them over nothing, or just with a g-string or something, I don’t know, I’m not really familiar with the particulars of assless chap wear. But I can certainly understand why someone might be confused, especially if that someone is the Gay Goose, who seems to live in a perpetual state of confusion, which is one of the many reasons why I love him so much.

So anyway the Bean and I walked into the cowboy store and this really tall kid came at us in full cowboy regalia — tight Wranglers, boots, ten-gallon hat, I swear the only missing was a long piece of straw sticking out of his teeth — and greeted us with a jarringly loud “HOWDY, Y’ALL!!” and he didn’t have a nametag, so in my head I named him Roy, and Roy was super nice and cheerful and didn’t seem to be at all concerned that HE WAS WEARING A COSTUME.

The Bean just looked up at him like “What the fuck are YOU supposed to be?” and then he looked at me, as if he was waiting for an explanation, and I just shrugged like Don’t look at ME, dude. Seriously, I have NO IDEA and Roy was all, “Howdy there, little feller!” and the Bean looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language which I guess, given the exaggerated accent and all, wasn’t that far from the truth.

And then Roy tried to help us find a costume, but the Bean was totally uninterested in anything except crawling under the dressing room doors and I just kept snorting at the prices and saying things like “90 bucks for toddler boots, Roy? That’s highway robbery!” and he was all, “Ma’am, WHY do you keep calling me Roy?” and I was all, “Why do YOU keep calling me ‘ma’am’, Roy?” and he had no answer for that so I was all “Ha! Gotcha!” and he was all, “It’s not a competition, MA’AM” and I was all, “DAMMIT ROY you will NOT defeat me!!”

But then I felt bad and explained to him that Roy was just what I named him in my head and he said “Well, actually, my name is Levar” and I was all “GET THE FUCK OUT!! You mean like Levar BURTON?” and he kind of looked like he got that question a lot and said in an annoyed voice, “No ma’am, it’s a family name” and I was all, “What the hell kind of family do you COME from, Roy?” but he didn’t answer, he just led us over to the tight baby jeans and left us to fend for ourselves.

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