Last week John said something that you just don't expect to hear from a man. At least I didn't expect to hear it from him. Ever. And yet there they were. Those six words I never thought I'd hear him say.
"I don't have anything to wear."
He stood in our closet staring at his side that is full of clothes.
Surely there's something you can wear.
And that's when he turned around to my side of the closet and cast a lingering glance along its contents.
As if dude. I wear all of those.
There's just something about this time of year that gives me the urge to clean out the crap. I've yet to get to it though.
But it's on the list. I'll get to it. Eventually. Maybe.