I Hate Pants

In my family and among my friends I have a reputation. If you’re going to visit, call. Sure the apartment might not be entirely clean. There may be no food in the pantry, but above and beyond anything, there may be no pants. Or shirt. If it’s cold I’ll be wearing underwear. I kid. I generally always wear underwear.

My roommate was able to witness this, though we both had our pantless days. I simply felt bad when his fiance would come over and I was in the living room wearing my rather stunning undies. I didn’t want him to lose her to me. So I would throw on pants and a shirt. I’m a stud. I swear it.

As my nephew gets older, he’s not two, I try to promote his pantlessness as well. His family promotes this a little as he’s a skinny boy. You see, he doesn’t eat much and his eight cups of milk were cut down to three. He may be an addict, but it was the only thing that kept his pants from falling down. So now, my godchild and I will walk around, him without pants, me envious of his socially acceptable onesie. Is that how I get away with it?

This holiday season, don’t get your friends and family pants. Get them a gift card that gives them one pantless day.

With that, to all a Merry Christmas, and a pantless New Year.

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