In keeping with the recent theme of my posts, it seems August is just the month for goodbyes and moving on--so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that even my most favorite pajama boxers got in on all the farewell action the other day. Yes, in the sad picture to your left is a ragged scrap of what was once the best pajama article to ever grace my drowsy body. You can see that the ubiquitous monkey boxers (rather, what's left of them) have a new home in my box of letters, papers, diplomas and keepsakes. It is a place they have certainly earned--hanging out on my rear end every night for the past two years! They were loose, stretchy, cool, completely unattractive and totally amazing. Many of you experienced just how happy these monkey boxers used to make me, especially, but certainly not limited to roommates. I think even the locksmith in Rome has seen them, since the one time I ever had to call a locksmith, I was of course locked out of the house in my pajamas. We've been through a lot together, my monkey boxers and me: from all-nighters to restless (leg) nights to dozy naps to lazy Saturday mornings. Lately I often find myself at a loss, reaching for my old standby in the evenings before remembering with a sigh that the monkeys met their match. That match was, incidentally, the Blacks' dog Maya, who snuck into my room one night while I was absorbed in my Cosby Show DVDs and had a toothy go at my beloved pajamas.
So now you know the sad story of why a swatch of cotton with a monkey on it is in my keepsake box.
Oh, and as a bonus: Voilà the culprit, Maya. Quite a sweet, if high maintenance, puppy dog (I probably would have been much angrier if her ears weren't so soft and cute.):
So all good things must come to an end, it seems. Even perfect monkey boxers. *Sigh*
2 comments:
That dog has a look in her eyes like, "Aww, poor monkey boxers. GIVE ME ANOTHER PAIR!"
And I would just like to add that while they may have been faded, those monkey boxers were from Banana Republic, so you had a very class act bottom indeed! :)
Oh friend! Not the monkey boxers! It is OK, though. This bodes well for you. When something precious leaves your life it just means its making room for something more precious to move in...which means you're again going to find (or steal, as the case may be) some more kick ass boxers in France!
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