Monkey Boy informed me that he needs new underpants.
(Don’t we all!)
His current stock are a bit small and “squashing my penis”. Excellent. Definitely time for new underpants.
Grabbed some whilst we were out shopping. I allowed him to select. It’s a big decision. It can take, so I found out, 43 minutes for an eight year old boy to choose a pack of undies. Another 8 and a half to decide between the 5 pack and the 7 pack.
For some reason, why I have no idea, I ventured into his undy drawer. It was chockas full of undies. It needed a clean out. I saw some in there that I’m sure I purchased when he was toilet training.
I tipped them out onto the bed, and we sat together sorting sizes and wear and tear into various piles. Fit perfectly, too small, too worn out, WAY too small, “These ones have Cars on them, I hate Cars!” – that sort of thing.
Returned all fitting, newish and acceptable characterised underpants to draw.
Then the dilemma.
“Oh, Godzilla can just have those ones that are too small,” he informs me.
Apart from the fact that Godzilla doesn’t wear underpants, and I’d just cleaned his drawer out by stuffing all underpants –