Vern’s father was upstairs getting ready for bowling.  He was busy tossing things out of his dresser onto the floor.  He shouted, “Vern where’s my blasted jeans?!”

“Daddy, they’re in your dresser.  They are right where I always put them.”

“No, Vern!  They’re not here.”

“Yes, they are.  Keep looking.”

“Damn it Vern!  The only jeans in my drawers are not mine.  Mine had a stain on the right thigh.”

Vern went to her father’s room.  He was standing in his robe with black dress socks.  “Daddy those jeans on the floor are yours.”

“If they are mine; where’s the stain?”

“There was no stain.  It was dirt.  I washed them.”

“There is no way in hell these jeans are mine.  They don’t even go to my thighs.  I’ve been wearing the same size of jeans my whole life.”

“Let’s face the facts.  You’ve gained weight.”

“I’m a warrior.  I don’t gain weight.  You lost my pants and  you don’t want to admit it.”

“Daddy, I’m going to prove to you that those jeans are yours.”  Vern picked up the pants.  She looked for the washing tag.  Underneath it in permanent black marker was F5555.  She showed the writing to her father. “There you go.  It’s the first letter of your last name followed by your last four of your social security number.”

“There not mine.”

“Yes, they are.  You even wrote your identification number in them.”

“Ok, so if those jeans are mine you’ve ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans.”

“How’s that?”

“You shrank them.  You made them so small they won’t cover the front door or back door.  Damn things don’t even go up my legs.”

“Don’t get your underwear in a wad old man.”

“I’m not old.  I’m a war veteran and I don’t wear underwear!”

“Fine, after work I’ll go to the store and buy you some bigger jeans.”

“I don’t want bigger jeans.  I want my jeans.”

“Daddy, the truth is your special diet of beer and chips, followed by an excruciating workout of video games are causing you to gain weight.  If you just went for a walk with me and lay off some of those chips you’ll be back in your favorite jeans in no time.”

“Vern, I don’t get.  I don’t believe I’ve gained weight.  I think you are just lying to me.”

“Daddy, the jeans are yours.  The jeans don’t lie.”