I'm Being Silly - I know that. Really, I know that.

It took great personal fortitude this morning for me to let go of something meaningful in my life.  I had tried several times over the last couple of months to release it.  In fact, I would release it, and then take it back.  I'm talking about my beloved sleep shorts. 

Yes, yes, I know the women reading this are rolling their eyes, and groaning, "Men!"  Oh they know we are prone to this syndrome.  We become attached to underwear, T-shirts, ball-caps and yes sleep shorts.  We become absolutely attached, they become beloved items in our wardrobe,  and we can even go into panic at just the idea of parting from them.

Outsiders marvel at our display of loyalty.  These items become ragged, worn thin, and maybe even full of holes.  And when someone hints they should be discarded, we snatch them back out of their glutches and hold them protectively to our chests--close to the heart.  We look at our loved ones, seeing them for what they are--crazed, depraved, and moan "they just got comfortable."

I can admit, in general, men are not strong enough to let such things go.  We just can't.  It feels too disloyal.  Luckily, many of us marry strong wives who have no compunction about such things.  They routinely discard them usually with a look of disgust. 

Once we learn our loved one had the nerve to throw our beloved item away, we will immediately throw a tantrum.  This is a ritual of thanksgiving for the loved one doing what we could not.  And please understand holding a grudge is part of our grief process and let me remind you doctors have said grief is a two year process.

But alas, I am divorced.  There is no wive to play this vital role in my life.  I had to do it . . . gasp . . . on my own.

I noticed my old friend (my sleep shorts) was not in good as shape as of late.  The cloth around the elastic was wearing away.  I didn't mind . . . they were comfortable. I didn't mind they had faded . . . they were comfortable.   I didn't mind when the first little pinhole showed up . . . they were comfortable.   I didn't mind when the hole got a bit larger, or when another hole appeared . . . they were comfortable.  I justified keeping them, nothing vital was revealed.  Many times I had thought I should replace them . . . but they were comfortable.  Each wash cycle they were a little worse for the wear . . . but they were comfortable.

This morning I heard the garbage truck picking up the recyclables and knew it was time.  I showered, changed clothes and picked up my beloved friend, my beloved sleep shorts, taking them with me as I went off for the day.  With great personal fortitude I dropped them off in the garbage can. 

Not looking back I offered a eulogy and the perfect epitaph . . . . they were comfortable

Normally, I like to post a picture relating to my message.  Aren't you glad I didn't this time?

And I hope this post reassures you my sense of humor is in tact.

Blessings everyone.