When hubs got his next to the next to the before last raise I asked him if I could stop ironing his shirts and send them to the cleaners.
Yes. He said yes and I gave my iron to the Thrift Shop.
YAY!...emancipation.
There is one slight problem...they get starched really stiff...and I mean
REALLY STIFF.
He put on some khakis yesterday and could barely put his foot in, they were so stiff. They would have been able to stand up in the room by themselves. When he finally got them on, I looked at him and I said,
"Those aren't your pants"
He to me:..."how could they not be?"
Well, our cleaners is in Perryton and that town is 8000 population and 26 miles away. It stands to reason that on occasion a mishap could occur and you could get the wrong pants from time to time.
He wore them anyway and struggled down the stairs and swished out the door.
Later in the day I had an email from him that said,
"I don't think these are my pants."
BOOGER!
5 comments:
I say that every time I put my pants on..."surely these are not my pants". I'm not sure what is happening to my pants but these can't be my pants.
OH NO!!!!!!! You know, I will share a secret. I DO NOT IRON. NEVER HAVE, in 30 years of marriage. I am lucky my husband is a khaki and polo shirt type of guy!!!!!
Thank you so much for coming to share MY FREEDOM! Anita
Too funny! So glad you don't have to iron anymore!! It's the worst
Stacy
Hilarious!!!!!:) chris
This is so funny
great story made ma laugh!!!!
xxoo
Pam
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