THERE'S A HOLE IN MY BUCKET...(or PANTS?)

My husband sent me a text me from work today, and I quote, "In the bathroom now, thought I would text you. Things are good here, just a little stinky..."

A little?

I replied with some smart aleck remark when he added, "On a seriously funnier note, I just ripped the butt out of my pants. About an 8 inch hole. Not getting up until it's time to go... Haven't I done this before?"

Three times to be exact.

I told him to stop doing toe touches for everyone in the office. No matter how good he is, they won't give him a raise. (He does awesome toe touches...but that's another story.)

Then he informs me that he won't be coming home between now and buying a new pair of pants. I had to ask where the heck he plans on going so I'm never in THAT store WITH HIM again.

"Wal-Mart."

Oh, never mind, you'll fit right in.

So as I blog, my husband is at Wal-Mart with a "hole" (more like a crater) in his pants, eight inches long.

"You realize that's longer than your butt crack, right?" I try not to patronize him, but, HELLO!

I asked him if he had any safety pins.

"No, but I have some paper clips I think I can use..."

Even better. Now he's at Wal-Mart with paper clips up his butt.

Good luck with that, Honey.

Sometimes as wives, it's better to just laugh than worry about our hubbies seemingly strange ideas!