After digging through a basket of clean clothes lurking behind the living room couch, he balanced precariously on one foot while he put on a pair of basketball shorts. His black boxer briefs exposed a significant amount of butt cleavage where they slid down his backside after he pulled off the jeans he wore earlier in the day,
His exasperated mother, feigning immunity to the childish antics of her grown-ass man son, fought an urge to drop a quarter down his undefended bodily structure.
“Why are you standing around in your underwear,” she said, refusing to comment for the umpteenth time on his inability to cover his entire butt.
“Because I can.” Once he got his shorts on, he adjust them down again, well below his waist and the band on his underwear.
“I could walk around in my underwear too.” The thought of being unencumbered by binding clothing was tempting.
“Please, don’t do that.” His plaintive plea, and the look of absolute horror on his face, only made her want to go sans pants all the more. Though she knew, being obstinate and walking around in her grannies and 18-hour still wouldn’t improve his dressing habits.