Okay, this one's weird. Not sure where the idea came from, other than the "catchy" title. Enjoy! ~ JH
"FIBBER, FIBBER, FLAMING TROUSERS"
I always thought it was just a silly expression that meant nothing. Until it happened to me.
It was a little white lie, nothing earth-shattering. She asked me if I'd ever been to San Antonio. I had, a long time ago, but something embarrassing had happened there that I'd rather not talk about, so I simply said "no."
She looked at me curiously, cocked her head to one side as if in doubt, and asked, "Are you sure?"
I reiterated that no, actually, I had never had the occasion to visit San Antonio at any time for any reason.
Suddenly, a burning sensation just above my ankles caught my attention. If that hadn't alerted me to something unusual occurring, then the smell of singed leg hairs would have. I looked down and screamed in shock to see both of my pants legs going up in flames.
She started squealing like some rabid swine and fumbling for my belt. I was too shocked to move, so I simply sat there screaming while she pulled off my belt and flung it aside and began working to free the waist button.
It's a good thing we're married, because what happened next would have been extremely awkward otherwise. She pulled my pants – which were now on fire to the thighs – down and away from my body and began stamping on them with her feet to put out the flames.
I don't remember when I stopped screaming, I only know that, when I glanced back down at my legs, there was silence. All my leg hair had burned off below the knee and minor skin burns near both kneecaps were now evident.
She bent down and picked up what was left of my pants and said, "You wanna try that again?"
"Well, I was only there the one time. And I didn't even get to see the Alamo."