As I’m standing in the mirror this morning fine-tuning my face for the day (I would like to thank Mac Studios for keeping me attractive in these, the waning years of my life), my husband walks up behind me, looks in the mirror and says ‘I don’t like my look today’. His eyebrows furrow for a moment as he considers his options to remedy his situation, then says ‘I think I’m going to change my pants’.
His pants. When women have a bad face/hair/clothes day EVERYTHING goes: dry shampoo gets sprayed in until your hair is a helmet, eye make up comes off and is reapplied, and the WHOLE outfit changes. Not just the pants…
Then we call in sick because this disaster is not getting fixed before 8am.
He walks out of the bathroom, stops outside and says ‘on second thought, my pants are fine. I look good. Don’t you wish it was this easy for you? You should blog about this!’
So here we are.
I’m going to burn all of his pants when I get home (kidding!… ish)