[Conversations] I'm shopping in the men's section from now on
Hi! Hi again. Okay, two for two, two days in a row, let's hope all those copper pennies in the fuse box hold out for a little longer. Turns out it's a stone age-era fuse box needing lightning-fused sand blobby-headed fuses from the shop, but $0.10 in change I should've turned over to the bank when they stopped making pennies, some aluminum foil, and a few stray bits of wire, should all hold me until the weekend when I get a chance to stop at the store.
It'll be fine. Right?
Anyway, I've had a bit of bad luck the last two weeks where, despite having the flu shot months ago, I was hit with regulation flu. Once almost recovered from that, I got hit with the stomach flu. Anyway, five days (nearly 48 hours praying to the porcelain God to please make it stop or kill me I don't care which, followed by three days of trying to rehydrate and feed my drama queen stomach something it'll actually allow in its presence) later, it's Monday morning, and I have to go to work.
I get dressed, pull on my jeans, and think, huh. They're loose -- awfully loose. I have a brief moment where I think to myself, hey, I guess unintended benefit of being sick is losing so much weight that I've dropped down a full jeans size.
I notice the legs are awfully long.
It's Monday. Barely 5 AM. I'm not 100%. I don't connect the dots. I think, Huh. I've shrunk.
But I don't have any other clean jeans so I tighten my belt and fold up the legs a couple of times. Looks awkward, but I'm comfortable with the fact that I'm short and, whatever.
I collect the assorted bits and bobs that go in my pockets because, and shove my hand into my pocket. My hand... keeps going.
It's still Monday. Barely 5 AM. I'm not 100%. I still don't connect the dots. I have a moment of complete elation. I've been blessed with the holy grail of bottomless pockets!
Then, from nowhere, I get hit by the four-by-clue, roll my eyes at myself, and realize, These are the Spouse's jeans. And, as my heart has been broken by the loss of bottomless pockets, I spitefully think, Bastard. I find a pair of my they're still clean I don't care what you think jeans and reluctantly part with the Spouse's jeans.
Anyway, fast forward to much later, when I have a spare moment at work, and right around the time I know the Spouse is waking up to get ready to go to his job. I text the Spouse:
Me: Good morning, baby
Me: So this morning I get dressed in the jeans I brought up from downstairs. They're pretty big. I'm thinking I lost a lot of weight over the last few days and that's not healthy, but whatever.
Me: Then I realize that the legs are too long and there's pockets deeper than the Marianas Trench
Me: And I've decided that's it, I'm shopping in the men's section from now on
After a few minutes, as an afterthought, I text again.
Me: Btw, your jeans are in the spare bedroom on the bed if you're looking for them
The Spouse is probably awake by now (all that texting has to wake him up if his regular alarm doesn't), and he texts back:
Spouse: I found them
Spouse: Your jeans are on the dryer, ya dip
Me: You're laughing at me, aren't you? Shut up.
Me: But I'm serious. I'm shopping in the men's section next time we go. You can't stop me.
Spouse: Yes, dear.
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