My husband started to smell really bad… I mean, REEK.

I made an appointment for him with the urologist and decided to go with him for support. He went into the doctor’s office and the doctor closed the door.

Five minutes later, the doctor comes out and his face turns red when he sees me. Doc (barely holding back laughter): You might want to go in and see for yourself. Me: ‘Doctor, what’s going on? Why are you laughing?’ Then my husband comes out. He: Honey… I’m not sure how to say this… But I…

I made an appointment for him with the urologist and decided to go with him for support. He went into the doctor’s office, and the door closed behind him. Five minutes later, the doctor came out, his face bright red, barely holding back laughter.

“Doc,” I asked, confused, “What’s going on? Why are you laughing?”

He shook his head, waving a hand. “You… you might want to go in and see for yourself.

I walked into the room, my heart pounding, expecting the worst. But then my husband came out, his face crimson, avoiding my gaze.

He scratched the back of his neck, his voice small. “Honey… I don’t know how to say this… But I… I had a sock stuck in my underwear.”

I blinked. “A… sock?”

He looked at the floor, his face burning with embarrassment. “Yeah… I must have left it in the laundry pile. It got stuck in there somehow, and I’ve been walking around with it… for days. It… it started to smell.”

I felt my jaw drop. “You’ve been walking around with a dirty sock in your underwear? For DAYS?”

He looked utterly defeated. “I didn’t realize it was there. I thought something was wrong. I thought I was sick. But… nope. Just… a sock.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open, and then it hit me. The absurdity of it all. The reason for the horrible smell. The embarrassment of him confessing this to a urologist.

I started laughing. I laughed so hard I had to lean against the wall for support. Tears streamed down my face, my stomach cramping from the sheer hilarity of it all.

He looked up, his face half-annoyed, half-relieved. “It’s not that funny.”

I gasped, trying to breathe. “Oh, it is. It really, really is.”

He grumbled, crossing his arms. “Well, at least I’m not dying.”

I hugged him, still laughing. “No, but I might. From laughing too hard.”