[Mr. Pockets]

My wife has called me a 'big fat dork' for driving all day to a meet. She buried her head in shame when I told her, in public, that I was out at midnight in Evansville, IN photographing my car. She's even been sort of upset that the 10th Anniversary meet is on her birthday.

But I think she gets it now.

Last night she went into the closet and came out with her snowman pajama pants neatly folded.

'I want you to have these. I'm donating them for car-polishing.'

I was shocked. My chin actually got rug-burn from hitting the floor so hard. 'But...but...these are your soft snowman pants. You love these.'

If there's one 'thing' in the world my wife cherishes, it's soft clothing - especially pajamas. Relegating her favorite pair to icky, dorky car pampering just didn't fit into my uiniversal theory.

'I know, but I have some new pairs of pajama pants, and I know you love your SVX just as much as I love my pajamas. And these are soft and she'll love them.'

My wife called my car 'she.'

I mean, that's so unreal I don't even have a smartass comment in reply.