Kitted

My parents used to run a B&B up until the first weekend of August this past summer , when we moved.

Occasionally, guests would leave items of clothing behind, most often socks and underwear caught in the bedclothes. These would get washed and then, because my parents didn't realize they had been there in the laundry, they were most often put into the most appropriate person's drawer. I have lost count of the number of pink lacy panties I have removed from my drawer over the years, "Not Mine!"

Some clothing items, if they fit, or were a full pair of socks, we kept.

I can dress in a shirt, jeans and socks that were all left behind at the B&B.

I thought this random allocation of lost clothing would have finished with the B&B, but when I came home this weekend, I discovered a stack of clean laundry on my bed, at the bottom of which was a pair of pyjama bottoms that were not mine.

In fact, I actually remember the old English gentleman who had worn them.

I have no idea how or where these pants surfaced from after six months, but when I later did my laundry, I discovered that I had to put them on, or walk around the house pantsless.

Mom saw me in them and said, "I don't know how we missed those when we were packing up your stuff to move."

"Because they aren't mine. They belong to some old man from the B&B."

"Oh? Really? Well, they fit you fine.

... Did he leave the top behind too?"

"No!"

"Oh, too bad."