“I found your glove,” I hear Tony call from the truck. We’re back at the lot now, loading up. I was too ashamed to say earlier that not only did I leave my pants behind but I couldn’t find one of my gloves. I was sure I’d packed both. I guessed it might have blown out of the truck.
Tony was kind to ask the guys parked next to us at the lot if they had an extra pair. A kid-sized pair of stretchy knitted things (like glove liners) was the answer, perfect complement to the denim shorts and knee-high socks I would be sporting.
At least the glove is found. I don’t know how it got inside the cab from the bag in the bed of the truck but I’m glad to have it back for the next ride (for which I promise to wear pants).
As I hand Tony his denim shorts I notice the button is attached with a tiny zip-tie. I can’t believe his wife lets him mend his clothes like that. Obviously I won’t tell anyone.