Janie, of course.

"Where are you going all dressed up like that?" Janie asks when she arrives the next day.

"It's a flannel shirt," you say, somewhat defensively, "and I told you. I'm just running errands." It's a button-down flannel shirt, to be exact, and it may be showing a little cleavage, but it's not overly sexy and certainly not too formal. Does everyone just expect you to look like trash all the time?

"Guess I'm just used to seein' you in your PJs," she mumbles, opening your refrigerator and grabbing a jar of pickles.

"Well, I'm going out in public for once. Excuse me for not wanting to look homeless."

"You look cute. Did you text what's his face?"

"He texted me," you tell her, with as dirty a look as you can manage. She responds with a smirk.

"Did you suck his dick?" she asks, then starts performing mock fellatio on her pickle.

"Do me a favor and try not to be such a skank while you're watching my kids."

With that, you head out the door.