When An Outfit Goes Missing

My mom has a cousin who lives in Reno. We try to see her and her husband whenever we're at the lake. They came up yesterday and met us at the beach. After a long afternoon soaking up the hot Sierra sun, playing in the lake, kayaking and talking, we headed back to the cabin we're renting for some dinner.

At this point, Linda headed into my parents bedroom to change. 

Fast forward a couple of hours. Tom and Linda had headed home and my mom's phone rang. My mom listened and then asked, "Is anyone missing a green shirt with cars and trucks on it, black shorts and green underwear?" She was met with blank stares. She explained that Linda had found the aforementioned apparel in her belongings. We assumed someone had stuck them in her bag at the beach but none of our guys (and it was men's clothing we were talking about) would fess up. We jumped to the logical conclusion that someone near us at the beach had inadvertently put their stuff in her bag. Because none of our guys had a green shirt with cars and trucks, black shorts or green underwear.

Fast forward another couple of hours. My brother, his wife, Troy and I were sitting on the couch. My mom was in another chair. Our boys were sound asleep upstairs. My dad was in his bedroom. He came out, looked at my mom, and straight up asked, "Have you seen my gray shirt and black shorts?"

Wait. What now?

Hang on a second while I tell you that my dad is a very intelligent, very aware, very logical guy. My mom said something along the lines of, "You mean the clothes Linda took home with her?"

"No, she took home a GREEN shirt. I'm missing a GRAY shirt," my dad says.

But, y'all, GREEN and GRAY sound a lot alike over a cell phone. "Did your shirt have cars on it?" my mom asked him.

"Well, yes..."

My mom then proceeded to ask him how he didn't figure out that these were his clothes to which he explained that he'd never had them at the beach. They were folded up on his bed the entire time. I remembered that Linda had changed in his bedroom and explained that she must have accidentally picked them up.

"How did you not know that you had black shorts and a shirt with cars?" my mom wanted to know. My dad stood, staring at her, with the most baffled of looks on his face.

"My shirt IS GRAY! NOT GREEN!"

By this point the four of us on the couch are dying of hysterics. Troy, who reserves his giggle-laugh for only the most hilarious of situations, was bent in half, giggling like a school girl. My dad had to call Linda to explain that they were, in fact, his clothes that she'd gone home with and he was only just then realizing it. As he talked to her, my brother laughed so hard he had a stream of tears rolling down his cheeks. I couldn't get enough air and my stomach muscles hurt so bad I thought I was going to throw up. My mom and Heather were laughing equally as hard. 

My dad handed the phone off to my mom and Linda was laughing just as hysterically as the rest of us. He continued to defend himself based on the fact that the color description hadn't been right.

In the end, after merciless teasing from the rest of us, my dad said, "It's not my fault your cousin stole my clothes."

He was, of course, kidding, but that comment sent us right back over the edge. None of us had laughed that hard in a VERY long time and, for years to come, we will be talking about the stolen GRAY shirt, black shorts and green underwear.