Well, yesterday Steph and I had the most inane conversation of our married life. And trust me there have been a few.
I needed new work pants to all of mine shrinking 4 sizes or falling apart. I told her to get the size off the pants I wore Saturday because they fit well. She left for the store.
When she came back I tired on the pants. The first pair was too small. I asked her why she didn't get the size off the pants I told her to. She said she did. I asked her what pair. She said they were on the couch.
I looked and there on the couch was a pair of blue pants.
"Those are not the pants I wore."
"Yes, they are."
"No, the ones I wore were black, those are blue."
"They were the ones you wore."
"How could they be the ones I wore if they are not the same color."
"Those are the ones I took your knife out of."
The conversation went on like this for a while longer. The other two pairs of pants fit so I just told her to take the one pair back. A short time later, as I sat at my desk, she walked into the hall with the black pants in her hand. I told her that was the pair I wore Saturday.
She said they were the pair that was on the couch. I began to wonder if there were not two pairs of pants on the couch so I went and looked. There were no more pants.
I took the black pants and tossed them on the green couch and immediately the looked blue.
We were both right - and wrong.
They shall henceforth and forever be known as my chameleon pants.
I needed new work pants to all of mine shrinking 4 sizes or falling apart. I told her to get the size off the pants I wore Saturday because they fit well. She left for the store.
When she came back I tired on the pants. The first pair was too small. I asked her why she didn't get the size off the pants I told her to. She said she did. I asked her what pair. She said they were on the couch.
I looked and there on the couch was a pair of blue pants.
"Those are not the pants I wore."
"Yes, they are."
"No, the ones I wore were black, those are blue."
"They were the ones you wore."
"How could they be the ones I wore if they are not the same color."
"Those are the ones I took your knife out of."
The conversation went on like this for a while longer. The other two pairs of pants fit so I just told her to take the one pair back. A short time later, as I sat at my desk, she walked into the hall with the black pants in her hand. I told her that was the pair I wore Saturday.
She said they were the pair that was on the couch. I began to wonder if there were not two pairs of pants on the couch so I went and looked. There were no more pants.
I took the black pants and tossed them on the green couch and immediately the looked blue.
We were both right - and wrong.
They shall henceforth and forever be known as my chameleon pants.