There’s a Hole in Your Butt

So apparently I need to think about purchasing a few more pairs of slacks for work. While I have changed a bit (for whatever reason) up until a year or so ago I just wore the same damn clothes for YEARS. Truly. Until they fell apart and I had to buy new ones. I just never saw the need for it and have never been one to worry about whether or not I was in style. I wore the same pair of sneakers until they fell apart and would buy one new pair of jeans a year. T-Shirts, hell I have T-shirts older than all three of my children combined.

One necessary evil was the need for new work clothes on occasion. Since I wear black slacks and my uniform more often than anything else, I obviously have to purchase new pairs a bit more often but generally I stick to the same rule. When the shit falls apart, replace it. While I am not quite so tight about it anymore I do tend to wear them out as my family noticed this morning.

I grabbed a pair of black kakis off the hanger this morning just like normal but these had developed a small hole in my right cheek which of course I paid no attention to but the wife noticed immediately.

“There’s a hole in your butt”

“Yes, there are two”

No response…

Then my eight-year-old walks into the bathroom a couple of minutes later and tells me pretty much the same thing,

“Daddy, you have a hole in your butt”

“So do you”

“No I don’t”

“Why do you think they call it a butthole?”

At which point peals of small child laughter ensue and the wife thanks me for teaching our daughter something new…

A minute passes and Ruth tells me,

“Yeah, thanks for teaching me that”

She returns a minute or so later,

“Thanks for teaching me that, I’m going to repeat it at school”

“If you do I will ground you forever…and a day”

Deafening silence.

The butthole parent gene ALWAYS wins.

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