Went to the mall today. Happy Wife wanted to have a pair of jeans I’d bought her for Christmas hemmed.
You must be aghast: You bought your wife jeans?
Yup, two pair in fact. I knew it was risky. Told the the saleswoman at Nordstrom as much. But she reassured me and away we went together, amid the countless racks of jeans. Good grief, The Selection. What now? Settle down I told myself, you can do this. First, I ruled out Mom Jeans. No frumpy comfort fit pleated pants for my girl. Uh-uh. And skinny jeans, which accounted for most of the selection, I also knew were out, as I once recall Happy Wife refer to them as “sausage casings.” After considerable browsing I settled for two pair of “slimming, boot cut” jeans designed to be worn low on the waist, one in denim blue and one in black. Cool, I thought, hip without being ho-hum.
Christmas arrived and I crossed my fingers.
She liked them! Except the black pair, she said, may be a bit too long.
Yet after she came out of the dressing today at Nordstrom I was pleased to hear the length, with heels on, was in fact just right.
Score two for the Happy Husband!
Now she needs a new robe (aka “fluffage’), as her old standard permanently resides at the beach house. Until her birthday in March this one will do in a pinch:
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NYE @ Jens restaurant:
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And to the right, here, is where the curtain used to hang.
“Honey, what on earth are you doing up there? Here, grab my magic wand and come down here and make me my morning Latte (w/ a dash of egg nog please).”
A wife conversant in magic wand wielding, now that’s magical.