Everyday upon returning from work my husband has removed his "public" pants and shimmied into a pair of sweats within 30 seconds of entering the house. Now, he doesn't work at a place that requires a suit or tie, casual dress code is a must for him to accept a job offer. Still, obviously jeans are a lot to ask of him. The man despises underwear and the fact that leaving the house requires (under my authority) putting them on. A while back I was joking with him while he was putting on his sweats about finally getting out of constrictive underwear and how wonderful it must feel, poor him to have to deal with that at least twice a week (he telecommutes most the time). He pauses and says, "yeah, it sucks going out". Cocking my head to the side I say "Todd, did you even bother to put any on today"? The reply was, "umm, no, not really". How do you "not really" put on underwear. Outside of being an exotic dancer most people sport some sort of undergarment to deal with the outside world. I could be wrong in this reality I have.
Not surprisingly my children share the same view as my husband. I have to check daily to make sure they have dressed themselves properly. I can't tell you how many pairs of kid underwear I have found shoved between the couch cushions in their attempt to fool me into the belief they did indeed put on the pair I had laid out for them. Apparently they are under the impression I'm not the brightest bulb in the box and easily fooled by these tactics. Okay, fine, most days I am distracted enough for them to get away with it.
The number one most fantastic feature of packing up and leaving standard society behind? Underwear is optional every damn day. Charming.
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