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In the summer of 2010, the Ohio Board of Education passed a new rule that all middle schools and high schools would have to follow: that every student and faculty member was to be in a fitted dress code. Now, this code was super strict. Basically, the only things you were allowed to wear were a polo shirt and khaki pants. The polos had to be either black, grey, white, or any of the school colors. In 2010, I was starting 6th grade at Wilson Middle School, whose colors are black and orange. So, most of the time, I wore orange (or white since I had a dandruff problem and wanted to conceal it). As for the khakis, they could be black khakis or tan khakis; as long as they were khakis. No jeans, no skirts, no leggings. Nothing of that sort was allowed. If you broke the dress code in any possible way, you'd get written up with the possibility of detention.

However, the Board was kind enough to make an exception: that they wouldn't enforce the dress code until 2011. This meant that the Fall semester was the last semester we were allowed to wear anything we wanted; T-shirts, jeans, hats, basketball shorts. After Christmas break, all of that was out the window.

In the April before I started middle school, I did something to piss off my parents. I don't remember what it was exactly, but my mother dished out a rather harsh punishment: that she would drag the entire family (me included) to Church every fucking Sunday from then on. I absolutely hated this, but thankfully Church doesn't play a huge role in this story. My mother would only let me wear one outfit to Church: an ugly blue plaid buttoned-up shirt, and a pair of khakis. Now, these were my only pair of khakis. Since the Board wasn't going to enforce the dress code until January, we had plenty of time to buy new ones later.

In August, 6th grade starts. I don't have many issues; I found classes easy, my locker wasn't far away from all my classes. And like many of the other students, I wore my favorite T-shirts and my cargo shorts, since the Board was letting us have these next few months to express ourselves before switching to the dress code.

Fast forward about a month. The middle of September is when weather starts getting a little nippy in Ohio. Because of this, I had to wear my khaki pants to keep my legs warm, since I refused to wear jeans.

One of my earlier classes in the year was my Gym class; I would have Gym, then go directly to lunch. Now, Gym was the only class where you could break the dress code. Every day, we would go into the locker rooms, and change out of our outfits into a T-shirt and pair of shorts since they're more flexible for the day's activities.

One day, we changed in the locker rooms and I put my khaki pants and the shirt I was originally wearing into the lockers along with my gym bag and my other school stuff. (What was really weird was that in middle school, you weren't allowed to carry your backpack to all your classes, you had to keep that in your main locker. So, I had to carry all of my folders, books, and pencils by hand all day. Yet, in high school, you're allowed to carry your bag with you. I never understood that rule.) I go out, join the rest of the class, and do all of the stuff we did for the day.

Forty minutes later, it's the end of class. I join the rest of the guys going back to the locker room. When I opened my locker to get my gym bag, I noticed that my khaki pants were missing. Immediately I suspected the guy who was bullying me throughout middle school; we're gonna call him Randy. Randy was short, and he had a big mouth. But he was just all talk; every time he cursed at me or put his hands on me, I immediately told people about it. I remember one time, I actually pushed Randy in a locker in the locker room and put my combination lock over it so he wouldn't get out, and just left him there for several minutes. (Weirdly enough, I never got in trouble for that.) He didn't pick on me as hard after that.

Anyways, Randy was a troublesome kid, so I instantly thought that he stole my pants. Now, to me, it wasn't a big deal because it was September, so I could just wear my Gym clothes for the rest of the day and I wouldn't be in trouble with the school. I checked the Lost & Found bin at the end of the school day, but they never turned up.

I didn't know how I was going to tell my parents about this. For one, they were crazy, but two, this was also an absurd thing to tell people. How do you explain to someone that your pants were stolen at a middle school Gym?

When I got home that day, my parents saw that I was still in basketball shorts when it was a bit chilly outside. They asked where my pants were, and I told them. "I had them on before Gym class, and I stuck them in my locker, but when I got back, they were gone! Someone had to of stolen them; pants don't just get up and walk away."

It took them a couple seconds to process this, because let's face it, this is a very strange story. Then they start getting angry; at me! "What is wrong with you?!" my mom said. "Those pants were very expensive and they were supposed to be for Church!"

"I bet he did this on purpose," dad said. "Because he doesn't like going to Church and this is his way of retaliation. Well, you know what the fuck you're going to do? You're going to go to the Lost & Found bin between every class period - I don't care how far away it is - and you're going to look for those pants. And if you don't find those pants every day, I'm going to whoop your ass."

I barely got two words in. Never has a family member deserved a slap across the face. Of course, I didn't, but I really wanted to. I was sitting there, flabbergasted, like What do you mean??? I didn't lose them on purpose! But every time I tried to say that, they never listened.

Now, the appropriate response to all of this was of course to not look for those pants. Are you kidding me? I wasn't about to waste my time looking for them between every single class. In middle school, you're allowed three minutes in between the bell, and if you were late by one second, you were written up.

I lied every day for about a week, saying that the pants never turned up. Eventually, my parents decided that instead of trying to find them, they were going to dish out a new punishment. I was to wear the dress code now, not in January when it was supposed to start. If I wasn't wearing a polo and khakis (which they bought that week since as I didn't have any other ones), then they would beat me.

I was pissed. I didn't have to wear these ugly-ass clothes for at least three more months, but they wouldn't let me wear any of my silly T-shirts or cargo shorts. You might think that they got one over on me, but I did eventually even the score, even if they still don't know it.

My mother kept a lot of mementos in my closet. Among those things were some Halloween costumes such as Elvis Presley or Darth Vader. Since I was the one who took out the trash in the house, I would take those costumes along with some other ugly shirts I didn't like, and I would just throw them away. This way, my parents would have to buy new ones and it would come out of _their_pocket, not mine. To this day, my mother has no idea what happened to those costumes. As far as she thinks, they were lost somewhere in the move when they changed houses in 2016.

The moral of the story is: Don't immediately assume the worst in your children. Because they can and will find ways to pick shit with you and make your life a little bit worse. And when that happens, it's so satisfying. And to tie up any loose ends, I never did find my pants. I don't know where they went or what happened to them. To this day, I still believe that they were stolen, but by who? I couldn't tell you.

Hope you guys enjoyed my story. I'll see you all around next time; until then, have a nice day.

Toni Q. McAlister

April 19th, 2021