Monday, July 8, 2013

Vacation. Seriously. All I ever wanted.

Jason: I need you to look at my clothes.

Me, looking at him: You look fine.

Him: No, no. I mean, the clothes I'm packing for our trip.

Me: What?

Him: I want to review with you what I'm bringing.

Me: You want to review with me...what you're bringing? On our trip?

Him: Yes. I mean, I just need you to look at all the shirts I'm bringing. Oh, and my belts. I think I need both my brown belt and my black belt. And remember those pants I got at Belk in February? Well, I could never get the pleat on the front just right, so I took them back on Saturday. I have to wash those first and then could you take a look and let me know what you think about the brown? I mean, it's khaki, but I'm not sure it's the right khaki. You know?

Me: *blink*

Him: I finished ironing my t-shirts!

Me: *blink, blink*

Him: So...yeah. If you could just review this with me when you have a moment?

Me: Yeah...sure.




HE'S ALMOST FORTY YEARS OLD.

I AM AFRAID.


5 comments:

Coal Miner's Granddaughter said...

Plaid shorts and black dress socks. Word.

Bethany said...

Could be worse, he could just assume you will pack for him and then bitch & moan when he doesn't have the clothes he wanted to wear.

Melissa said...

He ironed his tee shirts! By himself. In my house, that is a success.

Melissa said...

He ironed his tee shirts! In my house, that's a success!

tiffany said...

I am with Bethany! B thankful he packs his own crap......and secretly I'm jealous,Jason irons! My husband refuses to learn to do that.