Nobody told me about the trap I was falling into. Not my friends, not my wife, certainly not the person who rang me up at the store.
My hope here is I can provide for you what wasn't there for me.
If you're an adult -- or, more specifically, an adult who prides himself (or herself) on being exhausted virtually all of the time -- do NOT buy yourself a pair of sweatpants.
Not long ago, I bought a $15 pair of navy blue sweatpants at my town's sweatpants specialty store. I think it was called Sports Authority.
My thinking was simple: "These sweatpants have the potential to be better for playing football with my son in the mud than the dress pants I wore yesterday after work to do so."
My problem now is even simpler: I haven't taken these sweatpants off since slipping them on in the Sports Authority restroom.
(Is there a more pathetic question than: "You don't have a policy against wearing purchased merchandise out of the store, do you?")
As it turns out, sweatpants aren't only excellent for activities in which you sweat or are exiting Sports Authority.
They also work equally as well for going to the grocery store, entertaining at home, sleeping, wearing to work (if accompanied by a suit jacket), eating at any non-Michelin-Star-rated restaurant, visiting a museum, seeing a movie, attending a house of worship, taking in your child's music recital, meeting with your accountant, riding the subway, going on date night with your spouse, eating at Michelin-Star-rated restaurants and buying another pair of sweatpants. (I will update this list daily.)
But try to name an occasion in which sweatpants aren't appropriate.
You can't, especially if you don't know the definition of the word appropriate.
The bottom line is that putting on most kinds of pants a) takes some work b) causes some initial discomfort c) then involves intermittent (at best) periods of discomfort thereafter and d) requires some work and more discomfort to take off.
(Please note: If you don't pride yourself on being exhausted virtually all of the time, the above may not ring true for you.)
Sweatpants, on the other hand, feel good to put on, especially if you have somebody at your local sweatpants specialty store help you choose the right pair for you. (For example, my helpful sales associate pointed to the opposite end of the store and said, "They're over there.")
Sweatpants also feel good while they're on. In fact, wear them to a nice restaurant and, as your tablemates occasionally squirm and readjust, don't be surprised to find yourself silently laughing and saying to yourself, "I'm wearing sweatpants!"
Sweatpants feel good when you sit down and good when you stand up, and good if you decide to stay in a pose somewhere between sitting down and standing up.
Sweatpants feel good when taking them off. (Although, having not taken off my sweatpants, I can only assume that.)
So, why should you never, ever buy a pair of sweatpants?
Because soon nothing but the sweatpants and you being in them will matter at all, not even finishing the sentences that you wr