I was out in the woods at home. There was some kind of reunion going on. Just a small one. Vanilla Ice was there, some kind of in-law. He didn’t have any pants for dinner so mom or someone sent me to Old Navy to get a pair. Aaron and I hopped on our bikes and headed out.
It was getting dark, so I separated my bike in the middle and took the seat and the handlebars in with me. After looking around for a while I realized I had no idea what size he wore. I called him up and he said 80-something. They didn’t’ have any jeans in that size, so I had to pick him up a pair of shiny Viscera-esque pajama bottoms.
Somehow on my way to the register I ended up talking to dad about a cheeseburger commercial on TV.
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