Suddenly life in your overalls doesn’t feel as magical as when you were rolling around getting dirty and feeling invincible. You also most definitely don’t feel like a train conductor, farmer, or Mario when you’re certain you’re gonna piss yourself.
Without realizing, your body starts doing the Happy Dance as you stand and squat, stand and squat in front of the toilet as those damn buckles just won’t give you a break. You wonder how the hell did SHE do it so easily? You’ve witnessed your mom’s technique every day, but from your angle it feels impossible to self administer. You shake the right buckle, but nothing gives. There’s no time, you GOTTA GO! You violently tug again, trying to break the enslaving chains of B’gosh like the Incredible Hulk, but still nothing. Now you’re desperate.
Eventually you resort to a ninja-like duck and dodge move to squeeze out of the shoulder straps and begin your stream of freedom just in the nick of time. Ah! Ultimate relief! But as you look down, the Oshkosh patch stares back at you, bunched up around your shoes, covered in splotches of darker denim.
Time to pull them back on for the rest of the school day. Time to cry.
Who would’ve known that the Oshkosh overalls were God’s way of offering boys a preview of future mechanical failures at desperate times: the bra hook system.
And what was with that useless chest pocket…?!