Monday, December 28, 2015

What I got for Christmas.

Bat pants! Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Bat pants! Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Bat pants! Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Bat pants! Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Bat pants! Bat pants! Bat pants! 

Na na na na na na na na na
Bat paaaaaaannnntss!!!!!

Our old friend Mr. Philbin dropped me a line to ask whether, as I lurched between complaints and whining on one hand and soggy sentimentalism on the other, I had actually received anything for Christmas. I assured him that I was a very good boy this year, and to prove it, I showed him, and now you, my new Bat pants. 

My wife gave me these lounging pants, with the instruction that I may not wear them outside unless it's very dark. 

I don't think that's enough, actually. I ought not to wear them outside at all. The Bat-Signal design is pretty bright. What if it actually summons Batman? He'd punch me in the nose for a false alarm. 

Didn't work. She said I had to take the dog out anyway.

I love the Bat pants, and I got several other nifty presents as well. None of the others were pants-like, although some were clothing. Tasteful clothing. Not Underoos. They make them for adults now, you know.

Although if Underoos are meant to be worn on the inside, would that make them more appropriate than my Bat pants, which are worn on the outside?

I'd hate to be rushed to the hospital wearing Underoos, though.

Anyway, I loved almost all my presents, including my Bat pants, and I thank the givers very much.

Worst present I opened? Exploding dye pack. Not funny, guys. 
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