Who Wears Short Pants?

They don't make short pants like these anymore. I hope.

I wear short pants1.

So how many of you currently have the cheesy Who Wears Short Shorts? song from the 50’s, or the cheesy bastardized version of the same song that was used to sell Nair in the 80’s, or perhaps the disturbingly hilarious version that was part of Family Guy, playing in your head right now?

You are welcome.

For those of you that don’t, or perhaps for those of you that want to relive any or all of these, I’ve embedded several YouTube clips below. Make sure when you listen to them, you imagine Magnum P.I. and the dudes from Simon & Simon strutting around. I promise, you’ll either die laughing, or want to dry heave just a little. Maybe a lot.

Anyway, the weather this weekend was fan-freaking-tastic. It’s almost as if winter had a coronary, spring went on vacation, and summer immediately moved in. To put it another way, I was wearing actual short pants today. That’s right folks – shorts. In March. And I wasn’t even remotely pushing the weather envelope in any way. It was 21 degrees Celsius2. Insane and awesome. It even felt as if the sunshine were strong enough to convert my otherwise pasty white skin to a shade of pale not quite as ghostly.

Hang man with my nieces.

Of course, given the weather I’m sure I would have been violating some sort of Canadian law if I had opted to spend my day inside. My plan was to work on a paper. I stress was. That plan died the minute I stepped outside on my way to Starbucks for a Sunday morning cup of java. In fact, all attempts3 to return to the paper were thwarted. First by my friend Julie, and then by my brother, sister-in-law, and nieces. Not that any of them really had to try to thwart my plans. I was more than willing to throw them out of the window4 in order to enjoy the day. And to be honest, if they hadn’t come along I’d likely have convinced myself to work.

So really, I should be thanking them because they saved me from my otherwise workaholic self. So thank you! Thank you all for the coffees, the conversations, and the most excellent day. I don’t think Sunday could have been better.

Anyway, now I am home snuggling with the wee fuzzball, enjoying the breeze coming through the window, and trying to determine which scotch is going to be tonight’s scotch.

Yup. I’d rate this weekend as fan-freaking-tastic.

The original but oh-so-cheesy song by the Royal Teens (1957):

The cheesy commercial for Nair:

The disturbingly hilarious Family Guy version:

1 For the record, I do not wear short shorts. I’ll leave those to the men of the 70s and 80s, such as Magnum P.I. and the dudes from Simon & Simon.

2 Or for those of you who might not be familiar with the metric system, about 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

3 In this case, the term attempt means to have a fleeting thought where for half a moment I consider the possibility of maybe perhaps looking at the paper. And then, just as fast as it flits into my mind, it’s gone – extinguished by the sun shiny rays shining on my face.

4 To be clear, I was more than willing to throw my plans out of the window, not Julie or my family.


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