Home Again

St Pauly Boy just returned from one of his regular trips to CA for work. He's out there every other week. And I'm home with Pete. It's all good though, we're used to the distance.

But here's the real issue. St Pauly Boy came home wearing, yes, that gray sweater. That goddamn gray sweater that he wears FIVE TIMES A WEEK. With no observation that you shouldn't wear the same thing two days in a row, at least not when you're going into an office to see the same people. Or unless you got super drunk the night before and had to crash at some random's house. Obviously that's not his problem. His problem is that he loves that stupid fucking sweater. Now, don't get me wrong, it's a nice sweater. He looks good in it and that's all cool and stuff, but I am so tired of seeing this sweater, that I could honestly barf. I wish I could get it off of him for more than 5 minutes so I could give it to Pete as a new play toy. Then for sure we'd never see it again, because Pete would tear it up and eat the remains.

The issue with the sweater is so bad that I honestly wouldn't even hug him one day, when I got home from work, because I'm so sick of the sweater. He pouted. Big time. And then he came into the room and offered me a deal. He promises that he won't wear the sweater when the two of us are out in public together. Petty, you say? Sure. I can admit that. But the thing is, even the cocktail waitresses at our neighborhood pub tease him about this sweater. All of our friends tease him about the sweater. My family teases him about the sweater. We even got a call from the Pope the other day, who's also tired of the fucking sweater.

My response to the deal was to request that we get a lawyer present to draw up the terms of the agreement so we could sign them into a sort of Post-Nup.

When I was stressing about what to get him for Christmas this year (desperately wanting to get him alternatives to the sweater, but he's so picky, I had gift-buyers-fright and couldn't perform), my brother suggested that I steal the sweater and give it to him for Christmas. That would have been the best gift ever, except I couldn't get it away from him for an afternoon, much less be able to wrap it and give it to him on Christmas Eve.

You'll hear more about this. I know you will. It's a controversy in our house. But hey, if that's the biggest problem we have in our marriage, then shit, we're good.