How pjs are born

Arindam (looking down at a shirt which resembles a discarded tissue paper): Do I need to iron this shirt?

Me: I think you should.

Him: I cant. I am pressed for time.

Me, excited, with my pj radar extended all the way up: You said 'pressed' for time!

Him (probably expecting the wisecrack the moment he uttered the sentence and regretting his utterance deeply): ya, ya. I get it.


Me, about to hammer the final nail into his pj-irritated soul's coffin : How about this then - I was pressed for time so I didnt have time to press!

The dementors close in on him.