Button: (n) a small disk sewn onto a garment for closure
When I was younger, I asked my wife to sew me a pair of pants.
So she bought the cloth and laid out the pattern so I could have a pair of bell-bottom trousers. She was ready to put a zipper in when I stopped her.
I said, “No. I want buttons on the front.”
She gave me a little frown, but then she smiled, apparently catching a vision for my cavalier choice.
I put on the pants. They were kind of tight. But I was able to button them up and I headed off to a local coffeehouse where I planned on doing some singing.
Before I went over to the piano, I decided to perch on a stool to chat with the audience. When I did so, two of the buttons on my pants popped off with such ferocity that they flew into the audience, striking a couple of unsuspecting maidens, causing them to shriek.
I’ve always been proud of the fact that I possess a good comeback for almost every situation.
But on this occasion, I did not know what to communicate about my flying buttons.