I unwrap my presents.

“Pants!!!” I cry, delightedly. “New pants!!!”

Honestly, it is the best birthday ever. I have been given a set of four (including one free, which is a good bargain) ‘briefs’ by my in-laws, who like me very much and weren’t at all disappointed, suicidal etc. when I got together with the LTLP.

They are extra large in size, which is better for the health of your testicles, and different colours so I can mix and match depending on what else I am wearing of a day.

“I thought,” explains the LTLP, “that you could now chuck out some of those old pairs.”

I give her a suspicious glance, like a man who has just come downstairs in the morning to find a giraffe in his front room watching Channel 4.

The LTLP has a track record in trying to get me to upgrade perfectly good items of clothing. I do not wish to wear tatty pants every day, but there is a time and a place, and if you wear old pairs occasionally (if you are not going out, or your vegetables are not due for delivery) then you save wearing out your new ones and can keep them for best.

We discuss this, but she is not on receive mode, and rolls her eyes a lot.

When we toured round New Zealand I took a lot of old pairs of pants with me, and instead of having to wash them, I just left a pair in every town. That meant I did not need to carry them home on the plane, and was a good use for old pants. I might decide to go to New Zealand again at some point, and would not want to throw away good pairs.

I open the rest of my presents (3) and scuttle upstairs to put my pants away in my pants drawer. If I press them down really firmly it just shuts.

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