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Recently I was reading some fun marriage blogs, all about young love in the modern world. I came across one that made me laugh, “How To Properly Dress Your Husband,” and how once properly clad, to dress him up in his new outfits, take pictures, and post the fashion show of your newly transformed hubby on your blog.

For some reason I just found this to be uproariously funny. It’s the juxtaposition between who my husband is and what he would tolerate and what he would not, that really sparked my humor.

Anyway, always seeking a new way to rattle the poor man’s cage and being rather bored yesterday, I thought I would give it a try just to see what would happen. It is very important to rattle a hubby’s cage now and then, least they grow too complacent and comfortable. Always keep them guessing, hopefully not compelled to sleep with one open, just pleasantly alert.

So, once I was able to finally remove all vestiges of humor from my voice, I followed the instructions to a tee and simply announced, “Hubby, I think we should go to the mall today and get you some new duds.” He didn’t miss a beat and promptly says, “You can go to the mall today if you like, that sounds like a good idea.” Well no, “I want you to come with me so we can update your look, buy you some new clothes.” Now he’s just looking at me sideways, or perhaps with one eye on the television and one eye on me, I cannot really tell. Regardless, it is obvious he is just taking the temperature on his wife’s crazy once again. Finally he says slowly, “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

I am trying not to laugh at this point, trying desperately hard to convey that I am deadly serious here. “Well, why not?” I demand to know. Now I clearly have both eyes pointed in my direction and his full attention. “Because I don’t like the mall, I don’t want new clothes, and you are crazy,” he says.

Well I never! Crazy? Me? He’s smiling now. “Yes, totally insane,” he says. I am trying my very best to be indignant, to pout even, with varying degrees of success. Finally I manage to say, “Well you know, there are other wives who actually take their husband’s shopping, take fashion photos, and then post them on their blogs.”

He just bursts out laughing. “Now that is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” he says. “Are you serious??” Yes, yes I am serious! But of course I am not serious at all, in fact, I am not even certain I am really comfortable with the idea in the first place. There is just something slightly disconcerting to me about dressing a husband up a bit like a fashion accessory and posting photos of him about the intertoobz. I’m not saying it’s wrong, no judgement here, just not something that would work for me.

“No, not going to happen,” he says, still smiling. Ah yes, I didn’t think so, but at least I did have his full attention now, which really was the whole point all along.

There is the added dimension of neither one of us being too terribly concerned about fashion in the first place, although hubby sure can rock a pair of red suspenders. I found it a bit amusing that I have grown so fond of his red suspenders and just chocked it up to devotion, affection, and personal quirkiness. Apparently it is not just me, however. Recently we were in this store and a young sales girl began chatting up to hubby about his red suspenders. A few moments later she was actually straightening them, running her hands along them while I looked on, somewhat amused and somewhat compelled to NOT utter the words, “Look here girly girl, get your hands off of Grandpa’s suspenders!”

When we finally left the store, hubby quipped, “I don’t know of I want to shop here anymore, I just feel so violated.” Ha! He does not. He quite enjoyed the attention. “Are you sure these suspenders look alright?” he eventually asked me. Yes, yes, I am sure, they look better than alright, so alright that perhaps you really shouldn’t wear them out public anymore. It seems as if I am not the only one with a fondness for red suspenders.

Needless to say, I can never stop when I am ahead, so I rather foolishly trudged on. “You know, if you go to the mall with me, you could always wear your red suspenders…”

I kid you not, he actually sat up, announced that we did need to buy a few things, and he really wouldn’t mind a trip to the mall after all…

Oh, oh I see. Uh huh. The man is so lucky I am not actually a fashion blogger or he would soon find himself relegated to the accessory department.

spiderfly