Somebody Stole My Pants!

Back in the early days of our marriage, my physicist and I were impressed with a very, very old couple who began showing up at our gym. They often looked a little dazed and it seemed like just getting there was plenty of workout.  Catbird mentioned how she admired their grit to my physicist as we were gathering to leave one day and the staff person nearby gave an "Ah." and sort of shrugged, indicating there was more to the story.  We pressed for details.

"They are so confused, and he's forgotten she was with him and gone home without her more than once."  

Oh.  We felt appropriately sympathetic, both to the forgetful couple and to staff persons who had to deal with their extra needs.  And just as we stood there making our cooing sounds of commiseration, the old man came out of the locker room with his fist in the air, indignant, shouting:

"SOMEbody STOLE my PANTS!"

The staff person rolled his eyes and said, "This happens all the time.  He can't remember which locker he put his street-clothes in."

As the staff person put on his game face and began to coax the old man back into the locker room to help him find his clothes, my physicist and I cracked up.  

Since then, whenever we can't find the car keys, or have forgotten where we parked the car, or any of a thousand other indications we aren't as sharp as we'd like to pretend we are,  we raise our fists in the air and shout: 

"SOMEbody STOLE my PANTS!"

Last week, as Hermine blessed our fair city with a surfeit of rain, my physicist walked down to our neighborhood gym.  We have many barely-functional umbrellas, including one we bought in Italy with a lovely Botticelli print which seems to be constructed of chewing gum and tissue paper.  So when Catbird saw my physicist go out the door with the one and only good umbrella, she was concerned. 

The rains had stopped when my physicist arrived home an hour later, so the brolly wasn't readily apparent.  Anticipating forgetfulness (What is easier to forget than an umbrella once the rain stops?), Catbird asked, "You didn't leave the umbrella at the gym, did you?"  

"Actually," my physicist said, "I left it in the locker room while I worked out, and when I went back to get it, it wasn't there."

Crap.  Our one fully functional umbrella.  "Did you report it missing?"

"Yup.  I talked to them at the front desk but no one had seen it or turned it in."

Catbird said,  
"SOMEbody STOLE my umBRELLa!"
and we had a consoling, if grudging, chuckle.

That evening, after dinner, my physicist took Catbird's hand and said sheepishly, "I have a confession to make."

Pause...
"I found the umbrella.  

It was in my gym bag all along."

Oh, dear:  "SOMEbody STOLE my PANTS! "