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.
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?
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?
HE'S ALMOST FORTY YEARS OLD.
I AM AFRAID.
Plaid shorts and black dress socks. Word.
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.
He ironed his tee shirts! By himself. In my house, that is a success.
He ironed his tee shirts! In my house, that's a success!
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.
Post a Comment