Gut Check Time, You Can Do This

I've been tagged, which, as you know, is like an infection for me, cuz I end up being sick, as in caustic and sometimes vulgar.

But the lovely blogger who tagged me is lovely*, and I want to play well with others once in a while.
I’ve seen this tag and I thought it was cool.

I’m instructed to share a photo and tell its tale. Photo ten:ten can be found two ways, because I have Vista, and unlike me it does not cooperate.

The first result is a picture of some very dead branches against a brilliant blue sky. “I like branches” is my story.

Photo 10:10(2), according to the Evil Vista Photo Mucking Storage and Retrieval System (which is secretly a plot to rule the world and/or send Mac sales sky high), leads me deep into tens of pix of our kitchen renovation.

Once there I discover photo 10:10 is very dull indeed. “Here is an inset light,” is interesting only if you’d seen my indescribably bad kitchen ceiling/lighting PRE-reno.

I cheated. For you.
Here’s my tale.


Mr.’s fashion sense jumped the tracks in the 90s.

He threw himself off the “I care what I wear” bandwagon very early in our marriage.

Even in The Day he wasn’t good at style choices.

Lunch with college football buddies might send him looking for huaraches, bright floral shirts and Bermudas.

(Yea, but honey, he only goes to school in Wisconsin. He’s FROM Hawaii. Of COURSE he looks natural in it. He’s SAMOAN.)

In an attempt to shake his fist at the fashion industry, Madison Avenue, mechanical/maniacal trendiness and Decency in General, Mr. Savant fights for his right to Bad Style.

The Greatest Weapon in his arsenal is his light wash, tapered-leg, high-waisted jeans.
He wears ‘em as for battle. Tucked shirt and tight-belted. Just. Below. The nipples.

It’s doubly shameful cuz he’s buff.

Picture Daniel Craig dressed badly. Very, very badly.

If this has to be covered, shouldn’t it be covered

with kisses

in whipped cream

in something worthy?

My Mr.'s built like DC, and I rue the day when he says, "Honey, let's get out of bed, shower off the rest of this melted chocolate, get dressed, and take the kids to the mall."

The green work shirt is another of Mr.’s battle worn Favorites. It’s a flannel-lined wonder from the accursed LLBean. It is a Regular and Constant (like dry, cracked heels) during the fall and winter months (but no amount of pumice and balm can rid us of this horror.)

The Darlings (Oldest Dau and SIL, for New Readers) have been forced to venture into the public sector with Mr.

They’ve memorized his anti-style mission statement (for the badge. We all got badges.)

They've seen how Mr. gets a gleam in his eye when he hears the phrase “pinch roll”. They know. The. Horror.

My facebook abounds with pix from our kitchen project. This particular shot earned several comments from the Darlings.

G (son-in-law)
“See this shirt I'm wearin... I just found it stuck behind the cabinets wrapped around a pound of crack.”

M (daughter)
"This relic flannel will go great with the foo [Fu Manchu]. I wonder if I could score the wife something sweet from them walls."

G
"Wait, this is a woman’s shirt. I thought my shoulders looked huge in it."

M
"I think I'll wear it anyways...it's not often enough that green denim and flannel meet. It is a Sacred Unity."

G
LATER THAT DAY..."Honey, did you buy toilet paper today? Nevermind, I'll just use my sleeve.”

M
"SWEET!!! Dual pockets!! I can keep my Foo comb in one pocket and my Byran Adams cassette tape in the deuce spot"

In response I defended my husband’s Fu Manchu. He looks STUNNING in it, regardless of Darling’s opinion.

And that of the Aryan Brotherhood inmates, who think they’ve got some kind of ownership rights to this type of facial hair. Whatev, whitie.

On a similar note (fashion, not fascism); it should be said that a recent ban on a certain dress shirt was nearly vetoed this morning with Mr.’s declaration that it was Already Washed, and he was Wearing It One More Time before throwing it away.

He was over-ruled by a Marital Trade Agreement.


*Go visit the Lovely Sandy, from “It’s a Jungle Out There.” See her seriously cool contribution.