Dressing Myself

I sometimes have trouble dressing myself. My wife has, on a number of occasions, had to point out that my shirt was on backwards and/or inside out, not to mention that my collar was folded under or that there was a prominent stain in the middle of my chest. More than once, I’ve stepped up to a urinal and unzipped my fly only to discover that my boxers were on backwards. Once I was standing in line at the bank and caught sight of myself on the security monitor and saw that the shirt I was wearing was turned around so that the three buttons that were supposed to be in the front were in the back. (I’d wondered why I’d been the recipient of so many overly cheerful smiles all that morning. I’d been thinking I just naturally brought that out in people, which in a way was true I suppose.)

Today, however, I performed a feat of underwear erroneousness the absurdity of which strains even my own ability to suspend disbelief. It’s absolutely true, though. In the early afternoon, I excused myself from the duties of employment and paid a visit to the “executive reading room,” pulled down my pants and — what the hell?! Two pair of boxers. Yes, I somehow managed to put on two pair this morning. They happened to be the only two identical pair of boxers in my underwear drawer and I think they must have been somehow perfectly lumped one inside the other so that I put them both on simultaneously without noticing they were two and not one. Or, in my pre-caffeinated post-shower haze, did I first put on one pair and then the other, failing to notice the repetition? I can’t say for sure.

Yeah, I’m worried.


  1. Anonymous says

    It may be genetic.

  2. Quin Finnegan says

    “underwear erroneousness” ought to be a band name. Or the actual title of this post.

  3. Rufus McCain says

    I was also thinking of titling it something like “Under Aware” or “Underwear Awareness and the Lack Thereof” or something about “Doubling Up Down Under”.

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