The other night I was over at my mom's house hanging out and doing laundry and such and when she came up to me with a mysterious pair of pants.

"Here honey," she said, handing them to me. "These are too long to be your father's, so they must be yours."

I took the pants in my hands. My memory is well-known as faulty, but I even I could not remember ever owning a pair of jeans from the Gap.

"Are you sure these are mine?" I asked.

"Who else could they belong to?"

"Wait," I said, looking at the size tag. "These are six long... six long is a girl's size. Mom, these are women's jeans."

I started to hand the pants back to my mother, but then I realized something: These jeans looked like they would fit. And not just fit, but fit like a glove! (Or, more accurately, like tight, skinny jeans.)

I snatched them back and tried them on. My butt looked fantastic! There was no way I was going to be parted from these bad boys. Er... girls.

* * *

Today in an email, my friend Carolyn said this to me:

I realized — those jeans you got from your Mom's are MAGICAL... Just like in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants!!!! I mean, who knows where they came from? Who knows whose they were? And the odds that you would just put them on and they'd fit like a dream??!! Maybe they fit EVERYONE who tries them on?!! Uh huh &mdash magical.

So now I am a proud member of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.