Lovie played the name game with the trips today. As they sat in their highchairs enjoying lunch, my lovely wife held up random articles of clothing from the pile of clean laundry she was busy folding.
“What’s this,” she asked as she held up…
Pookie pants! all three shouted in unison.
“Good. Who knows what this is?”
Daddy sock!
“Y’all are good. Okay, what about this?”
A, B shirt!
“And this?”
C big girl pants!
“And this?”
A, B big-boy pants!
“Last one,” said Lovie. “What’s this?”
per the Good Spouse Act, panties pictured above are not Lovie's. (hers are hotter. WAY hotter. CALIENTE!)
Mommy BIG BOY pants!
What? Mommy’s big boy pants?? I thought that Lovie was playing The Name Game. But according to the trips, it turns out she’s actually been playing The Crying Game all this time.
Well, I suppose it makes sense. If I truly am One of the Girls, then that would leave Lovie to wear the big boy pants in the relationship.
About john cave osborne
