Blair got his shower first this morning. Afterward, he was in the bedroom, standing in front of his closet in black underwear and socks. (Hot, I know. It's a miracle I ever let him leave the house.)
"Hey, what's with the black underwear?" I asked, coming up behind him and sliding my arms around his middle. "You have a hot date at lunch or something?"
Blair looked at me quizically. "No. These were the ones that were on top."
I'll just cut to the chase and say that it must be very, very nice to be a man.