Well they're boxers but yesterday, after arriving home from a 96th birthday party (which was pretty top) I found the new arrival on our doorstep.
The padded pants will, as my middle brother put it the other night, make a big difference when I'm doing the hard miles.
Apart from maybe a spike or porcupine, there's surely nothing more uncomfortable than a bike saddle. It's a wonder of perseverance and grit that anyone can stay on one for more than a few minutes at a time. Just how is it done?
While I can't ride a bike at the moment, it doesn't mean I haven't tried in the past. And apart from the memories of tumbling, falling and general pain, the abiding memory is the uncomfortable seat of the orange and white BMX that was my first bike.
So, I pray the pants will solve this problem or, at least, give me a wee bit of comfort.
I'm writing this as the BBC's Call the Midwife is on.
Bear with me.
It seems my lack of skill is shared by Miranda Hart, in this programme at least.
In a case of art imitating life, she's not only playing someone who can't cycle but who is a whisky expert. Apart from being an upper class, 1950s midwife, the story could be mine.
A date has been set for next Sunday to try the cycling thing again. I'm currently searching websites and looking at different methods for the big day.
Coupled with this, I'm having wine. A nice glass of red. We've been well behaved today but we felt like a small tipple.
In diets, as well as cycling, it seems that balance is key.
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