The Black Pant Suit

Last night, I got frustrated with the mountain of clothes in the bottom of my closet that have to go to the dry cleaners, so I picked out a few of the essential items and put them in the floor near the bedroom door so that I would remember to take them to the cleaners. This morning, Matilda decided to curl up in the pile after our walk. I yelled at her because it reminded me of the story of the black pant suit. I've reprinted it below for those of you that weren't a part of my email circle when this happened. (Update: I recently found a great black pant suit on a tremendous sale at AnnTaylor.com. I hope it's a good replacement.)

This morning, I put a pile of clothes on the floor to take to the dry cleaners - 1 suit jacket (the pants weren't dirty, but I sweat like a pig), and my favorite black pants suit. The waist on the suit was too big, so I've been wearing it pinned in the waist. I was finally going to get it taken in so that I could wear my shirts tucked in. It was a light weight suit, as all of my black pant suits have been (I don't know why). My other favorite black pant suit was ruined a few months back when my iron got amazingly hot all of a sudden and burned my pants. I've held onto that suit thinking that someone will have a trick for removing the burn. But I digress.

I forgot to take the pile of clothes with me this morning. When I returned this evening, I found my favorite black pant suit on the floor where I left it, except the crotch had been ripped out and part of it was on the other side of the room. Jacket was fine, but the pants, ruined.

What is it with dogs and crotches?!

No matter the answer to that question, I am angry, hurt, confused, and out one perfectly good black pant suit.