She watched her husband wrestle with a faded pair of old khakis. No matter how hard he pulled and tugged and squeezed, he just couldn’t get them to button.
“You could wear something else, you know?” she told him.
He paused in front of their bedroom mirror to catch his breath.
“You know I can’t,” he then said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You know it’s my thing.”
She nodded, smiled. Yes, yes, you’re the science teacher who’s been wearing the same exact outfit for picture day for the last thirty plus years.
She then rolled her eyes.
Some “thing.”
The Weekday One Hundred 