"I don't have to" I reply "these are the exact same pants we bought a couple months ago. Same size and everything."
"Clothes don't all fit the same" she says "you need to try them on to make sure."
"Let's just get them, and if they don't fit, we'll just bring them back" I say.
"You mean I'll bring them back" says Julie.
She's got me there. That's exactly what I mean.
"Don't worry" I say "these are the EXACT same size as last time."
"We're not leaving until you try them on" I know that look. She means what she says. The only way we're getting out of the store in the next 10 minutes is if I try on the pants.
Not wanting to prolong the agony of shopping, I grab the pants and head for the dressing cubicle.
The plan is to go in and sit on the bench for a moment or two then exit the cubicle with an "I told you they would fit" expression, but Julie has anticipated my brilliant move.
She knocks on the door. "When you try them on I want to see how they fit."
Curses! How does she know?
Muttering to myself I quickly undress and then pull on the new pants. I can't believe I'm actually wasting time trying on pants that I know will fit. We could be in the check out line.....hold on. Something's not right. I must have the pants twisted or not buttoned right.
Looking in the mirror, I can see that the zipper isn't sewn on correctly. The zipper is in fact crooked and when the pants are zipped up, they bunch funny. I look like Quasimodo.
So now I need to save face.
Option one: Act like an adult and admit that there is indeed a defect with the clothing item, and apologize to the wife and confess that she was right about me trying on the pants.
--or--
Option two: Lie like a dog and hope for the best.
I'm sure that you can see that there is in fact only one option.
"Uh...I don't want pants anymore" I say through the door.
"What do you mean? You split the crotch in your other work pants. You can't wear your old pants anymore" she says.
"Ummm...." is all I can come up with.
My wife knows me too well. "They don't fit, do they?" she asks. Even through the door I can sense she has a smile on her face.
"They fit fine. It's just...." I say.
"It's just what?" Julie asks.
I let out a sigh of surrender.
"No, they don't fit" I admit. "I need another pair to try on."
Now the flood gates are burst wide open. Not only does Julie return with several pairs of pants, she has also found an armload of matching shirts she now wants me to try. And a belt. And shoes. A couple of ties. Dress socks.
It's gonna be a long day. I should have packed a lunch.
