I must have nine or ten pairs of pants here. That certainly should be enough to keep my lower half clothed at all times. Occasionally, though, it's not. Last night, I was down to my last pair, trying very hard not to pee in them. Luckily, with the help of three willing aides, I was able to avoid that indignity.
They wash my laundry here, and I'm not sure exactly how it works, but I've run low on pants before, as noted in this blog. Indeed, my brother Jeff bought me three new pair just a few weeks ago to avoid precisely this situation. I can go through pants fairly quickly right after my cancer treatment, but I don't think I've been doing that lately, so I don't know what the problem is. Even though the laundry lady brings clothes back to my room about every morning, my pants seem to go out and stay out for a while. It's strange.
Of course, if I had my own home complete with a washer and dryer, this wouldn't be a problem.
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