So Dr Usfun have had a couple of weeks off; one week in Wales (cosy, slightly damp) and a week at home (cosier, slightly less damp) We have been Doing Fun Stuff and scheduled in a proper day of lazy. Proper days of lazy include various features; but without doubt include Comfy Trousers.

I turn to the PA and command her to bring me the Comfy Trousers. (I don’t of course, I turn to her and smile and ask her to please get out my trackie pants. But that doesn’t sound so good)  I love my Comfy trousers, I love the ease by which they go on and off, the stretchy spreadyness of them and the squishiness beneath my behind. Dr Usfun is a jeans and occassional suit wearer. He doesn’t do pyjamas, or tracksuit trousers for anything other than sport, or leggings.

(Which is a relief to us all, but anyway)

I turn to Dr Usfun and spot a slightly bemused face. I am guessing this is because he is unfamiliar with the sensation of comfort embracing my arse. I again suggest a trip to the shops forthwith to correct this wardrobe error he is experiencing.

‘Hils’, he says patiently, ‘I only own comfy trousers. It’s the first criteria’

Ah.