I own a pair of red pants that I'm particularly fond of. They're warm and comfy and well-fitting and stylish. Everything pants should be.
I wore them recently, and this morning wanted to wear them again.
So, post-shower, I looked around for them in the bedroom.
Huh? Where'd they go?
"Kris, do you know where my red pants are?"
"No. Are they in the bedroom?"
"I can't find them."
In case Kris had dumped them in the laundry sorter, I started pulling clothes out and putting them into piles (dark colors, light colors, whites and dark but need to go into hot water anyway). I sorted all the clothes, and still no red pants.
Hmph.
After a few moments, Kris showed up in the bedroom and, looking at the piles, started looking for the red pants, too. He looked on the dresser, in the clean clothes basket (clothes just waiting to be folded), the folded clothes piles (clothes folded, just waiting to be put away), and the other clothes basket.
No pants.
"Did you put them away?"
"I can't believe you just asked me that."
"Why?"
"When's the last time you've seen me put away clothes?"
"Good point."
We continued to search for another few minutes. Damn it, the bedroom just isn't this big! Not in the closet, not in the bathroom. Red pants! Why have you forsaken me?!
"I'm going to check the guest bedroom."
"Okay."
My dresser is in the guest bedroom. It's the only place in our tiny bedrooms to add another dresser.
Kris opened the guest room door, and, what do you know, red pants!
He turned to me, and said, "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever's left, no matter how improbable, must be true."
Hmph.
