Vanity

James spent at least thirty minutes clowning around in the depths of his dressing room this morning, he rummaged for an age, hopped about on one leg for a time and then lay on the floor with a shoe lace threaded through the eye of the zip before eventually emerging vacuum packed into an old pair of jeans.

"They have shrunk!" he surmised.

"While they were hanging in your closet?" I laughed (he would rather eat his own head than exercise).

Later at my perfect jewel's carol service James stood woodenly down at the back of the church with the other daddies. They all wore big over coats. Situations like these make much more sense since I have gotten a little older.

Men are simply the vainest of creatures...