The other night when Papabear had to pack a bag for D.C. he asked me where all his underwear had gone. "Did you check the dryer," I asked. He returned from the laundry room with but a single pair. A mystery, we agreed.
This morning, while gathering scattered socks and things for a load of laundry, I noticed Papabear's duffel bag shoved in a remote corner of our Texas-sized closet. It was the duffel bag he used for our trip to Arizona. Guess what it was full of? Dirty underwear.
I am certain that his brain didn't actually think the thought, "Oh, she'll unpack my bag." But you know, deep down in his man brain, the thought resided...because, why else wouldn't you unpack your own stinking bag? The one with all but three pairs of your underwear?
Men.
Such a man thing to do... Geesh!
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