Within hours, the thing vanishes, meaning another man is now building his biceps lugging off our useless treasures. Like a forlorn Christmas fruitcake, this tasteless trash moves from house to house, untouched but appreciated. By the men, anyway. I didn't know you could lose such a thing. Silly me .
Men can lose sight of any flat surface within hours.
If I let him get away with it, Bill would wear the identical pair of pants and his favorite red golf shirt every day of his life. Yes, they'd get washed, of course, but only at night while he's sleeping, so they're ready to wear the next morning. This requires that I shop on his behalf, then hide his new clothes in unexpected places, like the closet, for rotation purposes. When it's time to throw something out, I've learned tossing it in the wastebasket brings my grown man close to tears. Instead, I simply pack the done-for duds in my suitcase when I leave town on business, then quietly deposit them in an airport trash receptacle.