Stupid pants

Stupid, stupid pants. That is what I have… Stupid pants . In the midst of a dark night, they came to me. The walked on their own, full of too much starch. They came to my window and knocked it. I opened it and let it in. I don’t know why, and I now wish that I hadn’t because they have made my life a torment.
One day when walking down the street wearing my stupid pants, I kicked a can and it kicked back. I guess the can didn’t like the pants. I had never seen the like, but I would see many more strange things while wearing stupid pants.
I walked by a girl one day. My pants still had too much starch. They were round and full, pipes on my legs. They were solid and my legs were like clappers in large bells. They rang. Rang like bells on my wedding day. But I was only a kid, and the girl I walked by was not impressed.
Stupid pants. If I try to sit down my pants won’t let me. They stand straight out like an old skirt, the kind that has hoops in it. Pretty soon, the legs get so heavy that I just stand back up.
I don’t know why I still wear them, but once I got them on, I can’t get out of them again. I’m not tall enough, and I can’t jump that high. It would be better if they could bend. But they can’t, so I am stuck in stupid pants until I grow tall enough to step out of them.