MY wife walked into the bedroom just as I was slipping into a snug pair of grey tracksuit pants.
When I say slipping, I mean wriggling.
When I say snug, I probably should say skin tight.
"What are you doing?" she asked with the usual level of dismay she reserves for any occasion she walks into a room and finds me doing something unusual.
"It's the grey sweat pants challenge," I explained, still struggling to squeeze my right leg into a pair of pants designed for someone half my size.
"It's what all the cool kids call an internet challenge.
"Apparently I squeeze myself into this pair of super-tight grey trackie dacks, take a photo and post it online.
"Next thing you know, I'm hip to the groove with all the young guys and chicks."
For a minute, I wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or cry but then she did something I didn't expect - she turned and left the room without saying a word.
How's a bloke supposed to know his place in the world if the woman of his dreams can't be bothered telling him?
But I now understand why she was disgusted.
I looked up #greysweatpantschallenge and found it was all about the colour and tightness of grey tracksuit pants enhancing the appearance of the male anatomy.
Which explains why some of the photos I saw featured less-confident men with musical instruments - trumpets, tubas, French horns etc - stuck down the front of their trackie dacks.
Well, I think it explains it.
I really don't get internet challenges.
Remember the one where people were doused in buckets of iced water?
Or those people that used shot glasses to "puff up" their lips.
I think they called that one the Kylie Jenner lip challenge.
And just the other day the craze was the mannequin challenge, which involved people "freezing" in a tablueau.
Think of an office environment where absolutely no one is moving.
Who muttered something about "government departments"? That's completely unfair.
Thankfully, I'm to old for this sort of rubbish.
If I feel like wearing too-tight trackie dacks, standing still for hours, dousing myself in ice-cold water or sticking musical down my pants, I'll do it in the privacy of my own home and save the photos for those closest to me.
I reckon it's the least they deserve.
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