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Hollow Tree Ventures parenting humor
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My Husband's Manhood is Making Me Sew Mad

I don't like to say I "do the mending" around here.

Partly because it's not entirely true (I rarely get around to actually sewing up our ratty old clothes), and partly because it makes me sound like some sort of 1880's bonnet-wearing Little House on the Prairie throwback and frankly, I'm not sure I can live up to that kind of domestic pressure.

But mostly, I don't like to say I do the mending because there's just so. dang. much of it, and I'd prefer to distance myself from the issue as much as possible.

Sure, the kids are rough on their clothes, so they contribute their part - ripped knees, torn hems, holes in the sleeves where they got snagged on branches of trees I told them not to climb. But my children aren't the worst offenders.

Not even close.

The biggest problem in my mending pile is my husband's crotch.

Unless you're a squeamish friend of Gerry's or one of our blood relatives, you should stop by In the Powder Room today to see the various theories we have about why my husband's undercarriage can't seem to be contained within even the toughest trousers. Not only will it be good for a laugh, but I could also really use your answers to questions like, "Huh?" and "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO YOUR PANTS?" and "Whyyyyyyyy???"


My Husband's Manhood Is Affecting Our Marriage - a funny tale about relationships, sewing, and one man's crotch



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