The pants. In every room of the house. Do people (and by people I mean the man I love so much it makes me want to sing Luther Vandross songs in the shower) just walk into a room a say, “I don’t think this room requires pants?”
Jeans in the dining room. Kakhis in the living room. More jeans in the basement. Shorts in the bathroom.
Somewhere there is a very cute, bearded man walking around with no pants, wondering, “I know I dropped them right here…or were those my kitchen pants?”