The Mystery of the Missing Pants

“My presents are pants!” Husband exclaimed during our present opening session.

And he was right. Husband received a beautifully wrapped package of around twelve pairs of boxer shorts having formerly highlighted a pant crisis in the sartorial department. (American friends: we’re talking men’s knickers, boxers, underpants, undercrackers, here … not trousers.) He also received some lovely linen shirts that most certainly were not pants: they were very nice.

He packed his new shirts and his undergarments to bring away with us. Unfortunately we hadn’t quite enough space in our bags to bring enough clothes so just the other day I had to prepare a pack of clothes to go to the laundry department at the hotel.

Eventually they were returned. The shirts were neatly folded and so were the pants. I put my t-shirts away, and when Husband returned from scuba diving I told him: ‘Our laundry is back.’

However, on closer examination - not that close – the rather horrible realisation hit us that two of the pairs of pants … uhm … weren’t Husband’s.

Eeeewgh. And nastier still … they were somewhat elderly. Eeeewgh again.

We called the lady from Housekeeping … she retrieved the offending undercrackers and said “Just a minute” and then she disappeared. She disappeared for 24 hours.

I called again this morning with another bag of washing, because Husband is still short … of shorts. I gave her the new bag of washing and asked her if there is any news of Husband’s new and very black knickerknacks… She said “Just a minute…” and she’s been gone for five hours already.

Where have Husband’s pants gone? Is it the same place that single socks go? Does anyone know?