It Was Music To My Ears

At least, that’s what it sounded like when the Mister said he wanted to go shopping.   For some new clothes.  For himself.  And did I want to go with him?  You bet your bippy I did.  He rarely, very rarely, invests in new things for himself and I wanted to be there. To see the transformation for myself.

He’s very generous when it comes to me and asks me, quite often, if I want some new things.  Mostly, I don’t but it’s nice to be asked. 

In our new surroundings, the gentlemen are required to wear jackets to dinner most nights and there are some pretty snappy dressers around here. They set a high bar.  So when he suggested a shopping trip to kick up his wardrobe, visions of a spiffy silk jacket, a brightly striped shirt or two and maybe some off-white pleated linen pants danced through my head.  A little Ralph Loren here; a touch of Tommy Hilfiger there.  Both he and the closet were headed for a makeover.

But, were we really going to go all  “out with the old and in with the new?”  At this point in our lives?  Hope springs eternal.  Just not on a fast trajectory. 

After much looking, peering, assessing and fussing, we came home with a blue and white seersucker jacket and a pair of khakis.  His old stained seersucker jacket and one frayed pair of khakis had to bite the dust but those fresh colors I’d thought I’d see on his side of the closet?   They’re still on the rack in the store. We “replacement” shopped. I should have known.

So the closet didn’t get a makeover.  Neither did he. Actually, I’m glad all that’s over.  Wasn’t sure who that person was.  Certainly not the Real Mister.  White-pleated pants, indeed.  I’ll take his old khakis any day.

Music to my ears image thanks to