I folded some laundry and took care of Robert while Melinda was at work. When she got home, she picked up a pair of underwear off the living room floor.
“Why is my underwear on the floor?” she asked.
“I was folding laundry, and Robert was helping, so I’m sure it fell off of the couch.”
“Well, at least it’s my underwear and not your girlfriend’s,” Melinda said.
“Honey, please,” I said. “You and I both know my girlfriend doesn’t wear underwear.”
I Don't Belong Here. 