Let Your Wife Buy Your Clothes
I'm a little odd at times, I'll admit. I'm one of those males that really doesn't mind shopping from time to time. A trip to the mall with my wife isn't the death sentence that some other males perceive it to be. I also recently began to on-line shop on Amazon to find me some new threads. I'm pretty sure I'm going be pretty cool one of these days.
However, there's a price to pay.
My on-line shopping has consisted of 6 purchases and 4 returns. The returns haven't all gone well, and I'm pretty sure the new $70 Spring jacket, that I still don't have has now cost me $180. My new shoes are too tight. The bargain that I got on the golf shirts look cheap, and make me look fat. Might be a good reason for that, I guess.
The icing on the cake, are my new jeans. My wife bought me two pair of jeans from Kohl's for 30% off (Levi's 501 Jeans). She told me she bought them and I either didn't hear her (I have some issues with that) or simply wasn't listening to her (I have issues with that as well). I bought myself two new pairs (Levi's 505 Jeans) at the Outlet Mall between Cincinnati and Dayton and upon finding out she had already bought me two pair, instructed her to take the two pair back to Kohl's because I liked mine just fine.
I wore my new jeans to work today. They look pretty good on me. They fit OK. I picked out the right size and right color for a change. I was pretty proud of myself. When I pulled them up, and got everything tucked in, I was less than thrilled and totally taken back when I realized my new jeans didn't have a zipper. Buttons. 5 of them. Pretty tight buttons, too.
When you're a 60-year old male with a little arthritis in your thumbs and not as much bladder control as you had in your younger days, 5 buttons is not a good thing. As I've gotten older, my trips to the restroom are more frequent and take a bit longer. Five buttons isn't going to help that. If you call me and I'm not in my office, there's a pretty good chance you'll know where to find me. I'm not sure my wife knows about this yet. I'm not telling her. She'll find out soon enough when I come home and change because I peed myself at work. Until then, they're the best pair of damn pants I ever bought myself.