Blessed be your lovely pants
The ones which shield you from cold and wet,
that add girth to your chicken legs,
and make you the man that you are.

A man who is warm, a man who is dry.
A man who, if hit by a flying ice pellet
Will remain unscarred
(as long as it doesn't hit you in the face).

Oops - did I hit your face with this sharp ice pellet?

This wretched season cannot be fought
without the slippery zipping sounds made by your beloved pants.
I will have my parents send your freedom pants immediately.
For I cannot bear the thought of your empty life
Without your trusty snowpants.