Pants

I’m trying to work.  My daughter is sitting in the armchair, bundled in a blanket, with a copy of Calvin and Hobbes open on her lap.  She’s procrastinating dealing with a banking issue.

“Pants,” she says.  “Why do we say ‘pants’ when there’s only one of them?”

(She’s 19, but she can procrastinate with the best of the wee lambs.)

I read her this: Pants.  Sesquiotica is awesome.  Now you, too, can procrastinate.

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