Never send a man to do a woman’s job.

Since we seem to be in for the long run without A/C, I thought it might be a good idea to get me some shorts. So I asked my son, Dieter, to swing by the mall on his way home from work and pick some up.

When he came home I inspected his purchases and ... well, there was a problem.

The first pair of shorts I pulled out of the bag were white and looked rather suspiciously like the boxer shorts my dad wears. But okay, I wasn’t going to wear them outside, so I guessed they would be okay. As long as they were cool, that was the main point.

The second pair of shorts though was unacceptable. They looked nice enough in color and cut, but .... they were a size 14.
I’m a size 7.

“They were in the size 7 section,” Dieter said when I pointed out the size difference.
“Didn’t you look at the label inside the actual shorts?” I asked him.
Apparently not.

Never one to just give up, I took the size 14 shorts to my bedroom and tried them on. I pulled them up, closed the button, did up the zip and ... they fell right to the floor.

For any further purchases I think I’ll brave the heat and do my own shopping.