The weirdest thing just happened.
I’m sitting here checking my e-mail and surfing some blogs, and POP!
The button on my khaki shorts committed suicide.
This doesn’t happen to me. My waistline usually doesn’t expand much over time; whole star systems have been born and collapsed during the time it takes for my waist to grow an inch. Some might say I’m lucky like that, but you have no idea what it’s like to be perenially thin. Although, to be fair, I’m not as skinny as I used to be – back then you would have thought me a walking skeleton.
So now I’m left with a buttonless pair of shorts. The easiest thing to do would be to sew it back on. But for now, though, I’m just going to enjoy the brief novelty experience of having (for the first time) outgrown a piece of clothing I’ve had for less than two years.
P.S. Crouch hattrick for England. I mean, really, did anybody expect that happening a year ago? Forget the Roo-ster, the Crouch-ster is da man to watch in Germany!