Wednesday, January 12, 2005


My husband (bless the man... but) has an addiction to shirts! He works in one of those industries that hand out shirts like insurance salesmen hand out calendars. He must have somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve trillion shirts with vendor/supplier/contractor logos on them. And the universe knows, we all need twelve trillion golf shirts. On top of that he coaches (another shirt dispensary), and our son plays competitive baseball (he too has twelve trillion shirts - they all refer to baseball) and again, more shirts for the DAD. (I confess I have far too many shirts about baseball myself). So a couple of years ago, he comes home and says "I need some shirts that don't have anything written on them. This seemed reasonable, I mean you don't want to go to every dinner party, neighborhood picnic, etc. wearing something that says "Sprinkler Guys do it in the Mud" (okay he doesn't really have any shirts that say that on them, usually just the logo thing). I gave the nod to purchasing some shirts w/o logos on them. Fast forward two years later... we are going broke on shirts. He is buying shirts like Imelda Marcos buys shoes. If he likes a shirt, katie bar the door, he will buy three in every color. The man now has sixteen trillion shirts! So, we are out Christmas shopping, and he asks me to buy him a shirt - a shirt that looks very much (if not exactly) like 14 that he already has. I tell him, fine but...(secret private threat), which he responds to by putting back the shirt and picking out a nice pair of windpants - good choice. Then after the holiday, he tells me he is returning a pair of pants that my mother got him because they were too small - seems reasonable. He exchanged the pants for that SHIRT! I think I'm going to send him to a twelve step group, or at least get him the shirt.

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