I must have the only husband who needs emergency pants with any frequency. I never hear anyone else talking about pants emergencies. Why is that? In any case, this email exchange is too good not to share with you. Yes, I warned FKGuy that I would share. No, I am not making this up. You are welcome.
The other day, I sent FKGuy an email asking how his commute was, as I saw on the news there was an accident. The following exchange ensued. (I have literally copied and pasted the entire exchange for your amusement.)
FKGuy: Had torrential rain whole way to office, am soaking wet, have the door closed with a Keep Out sign up and have no pants on. Would have been a good day for emergency office pants. Needs to remember to leave spare clothes here.
Me: I have a great image of Kevin James in Hitch. I am glad I did not have a mouthful of tea when I read that, or clearly it would have come out my nose and ruined another laptop.
FKGuy: Even truer now as I am currently in the bathroom. That was a lot of curry last night.
Me: Stop. You are killing me. Please tell me you wore pants TO GET TO the bathroom.
FKGuy: Unfortunately, yes I did. I need emergency pants.
Me: Do you want me to bring you clean, dry pants? I am happy to do that.
FKGuy: No – they will be dry soon enough – meanwhile no pants and keep out sign.
(An hour and a half later…)
FKGuy: Pants back on now.
Me: (breathing a sigh of relief. And still laughing.)
And that, my friends, is my life. Wardrobe malfunctions and emergency pants. I laughed so hard at each email, naturally I had to replay this conversation for everyone I talked to that day. One such friend, whose husband enjoys going pants-less (but only within the confines of their house), relayed the saga to her husband. As he was taking a suitcase downstairs (in his underwear) with a worried dog trailing behind, he looks at the dog and says “Dog, I’m not going anywhere. I am in my underwear. Who do you think I am, FKGuy???”