The Curse of the Giant Underpants

There is a situation in my bedroom that has me becoming slightly concerned...


Dan's enormous socks and underpants are taking over the dresser.  


There was a time when we shared the dresser, more or less... We each had an underwear drawer, a t-shirt drawer, and a pajama drawer.  Dan's 1700 pairs of shorts took up the big drawer on the bottom, which is fine... the man would rather wear shorts than pants and personally, I have no plan on EVER trying to hang up a pair of basketball shorts.  Our clothing co-existed with peace and harmony for many years, or so I thought... Until recently.


I started noticing when we moved in January to the transition house (where I lived while Dan got settled in New York) that my clothing no longer shared equal space with his clothing.  More and more of my things wound up on hangers in the closet, because HIS things were multiplying and dividing and requiring more space.  It was no longer possible for his socks AND underpants to reside in the same drawer... each needed their own compartment because frankly, they wouldn't fit.


After Dan moved and left me alone for a few weeks, my things happily wended their way back into the dresser.  It was nice to open 6 drawers and find ONLY my things folded neatly inside, with plenty of room to wiggle around and breathe.


Following our move cross country and unpacking of our things, the issue of the dresser reared it's ugly head once again and I felt it necessary to investigate.  The question at hand is this:  WHY did Dan's socks, underpants, and t-shirts require so much damn space?


The answer became clear quite quickly:


Those socks and underpants be HUGE, yo.


Over the years, as Dan has grown and flourished, so has his clothing.  He doesn't have MORE "delicates" than I do (in fact, I'm pretty sure NO one has more delicates than I do... trust me when I say I will NEVER run out of underwear), he just has BIGGER delicates.  The man's boxer briefs are ENORMOUS.
  
(Sorry, baby, for publishing that tidbit in my blog, but since you never read it, you will never know I advertised this sensitive little fact.)


A few years ago, he also started buying his socks at the "Big Boy" store because his gianormous feet don't fit well in department store sizes and he kept ripping out the heels.  So yeah... his land-barge sized feet required land-barge sized socks, which weren't able to cram their way in to the same drawer as his giant underpants.


Ergo?  One of my drawers was sacrificed.


Moving right along, his t-shirts then went from an XL to a 2XL.  Ipso change-o, my pajamas no longer had a place to chill during the day.  Onto hangers and into the closet they went, along with MY t-shirts.


Bottom line?  I now have one drawer.


In it, all of my socks, underwear, and bras are fighting for breath in a massive tangle, because I have to shove them in and slam the drawer shut before they can escape.


Yeah... we need another dresser.


I shared this fact with Dan, as I was cursing and sweating and trying to fit all of my delicates into one damn drawer.


His response?

"Why?"


My answer?


Meaningfully displaying a pair of his underwear next to a pair of mine.


Him:  "Oh."  


Nuff said, y'all.