photo #1274286

As I gazed over and saw the face of the woman I married over three decades ago in the pale reflection of the nightlight, I saw the impish smile on her face. Yes, it was the same woman (hereinafter referred to as TW, for The Wife, That Woman, etc.), but after the events of the past two weeks, I wasn't sure exactly what had happened. First, a little background. I'm one of those guys that doesn't want to leave brand new underwear behind when I die, so the race is always on who's going to wear out first. I've had my current stock of various coloured briefs for around five years now, but TW was getting concerned about the way they were looking. Unbeknownst to me, she got on the @#%$& internet and ordered me a new pack of undies before telling me. The world kinda started "wobbling" two days later when she informed me that they were going to arrive by Fed-Ex on the truck today. The discussions began at that time, but y'all already know the outcome, we only participate to give them a "power" moment then we must capitulate. I only THOUGHT it was over. Alas, no. Around 1800 hrs., she checked the tracking number, and it had moved from "out for delivery" to "delivery postponed". Yeah, TW was quite pleased. Not as " pleased" after the same routine was repeated for the next week after daily calls and emails to various countries around the world. Yes, I admit, I DID pour a "little" gasoline on the fire, and MAYBE yucked it up a little too much at cocktail hour, but it WAS all in fun. Some of you are chuckling already, but WAIT ! The long awaited day finally arrived and the pack was here. TW knew I'd want them washed before I wore them, but she waited an extra two days first, while she proceeded to "make room" for them in my underwear drawer by process of elimination. The long awaited day came, and I actually grabbed one of the new pairs to wear. More background. I've been the same size for MANY, MANY years. Either the Vietnamese couldn't convert measurements, or I could. Not wanting to admit to the latter, I shut up and sucked it up. No way could I bring this up to TW. Ego, pride, all that. Then, I began to wonder if she ordered the wrong size or had shrunk them. Entirely possible. The FIRST "incident" occurred after my second cup of coffee pushed out the first. I went in there, and proceeded as normal until the whimper escaped when it felt like I'd used a fish scraper on myself. I told TW it was a sneeze. Me macho ! The second " incident " later was unreal, as it appeared they used barbed wire in the construction of the waistband and it had dug in. Then, God himself had to prove his sense of humour shortly after lunch by providing me with a SERIOUS need to "evacuate" myself. I ripped them down and immediately and involuntarily screamed. I wasn't going to cut the waistband because that would've given it away. I HAD to admit it. To TW. Yeah, she was attacked with paroxysms of laughter. My son joined in. My entire "world" crashed in. I endured the "situation" while she got back online and ordered new ones. I gave the old "new ones" to my son after finding them all mixed in with my favorite old "stretchies". Now, I await chapter two of the saga. And see her impish grin while she sleeps. And you wonder why I'M awake? Really? Come to think of it, can SOMEBODY in the White House verify Joe's undies are the right size? Could explain the way he walks and his " confusion". I KNOW !