I came home from planning Anna's baby shower the other night and I found Joel going through his dresser in the hopes of reducing the number of t-shirts in his drawers. As a result of having a house rabbit and wearing a lot of shirts, a lot of times, Joel has quite a few with little holes and worn out seams.
He was so excited to be purging his clothing of the items he doesn't wear anymore that he moved on to the other drawers. When he told me he was going to keep a pair of shorts, that came off without having to unbutton them, as grubby-work shorts, I asked him if he had a grubby-work belt to keep his shorts from falling off.
Joel said, "of course I do!", in this offended, I can't believe you asked tone.
This is what he showed me. This is a belt to him.
To be fair. It is actually a belt that came with a pair of his biking shorts that I bought him for his birthday. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Seriously. A nylon strap with a plastic buckle is a belt. Not in my house. Not on my husband!