An Early Valentine's Message to The Husband
My husband complains when I wear his sweatshirts. I (in)conveniently dirty them when he wants to wear them. Or I roll up the sleeves and leave them that way until they get laundered . Baby spit-up lines the shoulders while in the hamper. Or... well any excuse that makes it seem like he's upset I wear his hoodies.
As much as he says he's upset (even stating, "We're gonna get you your own black hoodie!"), I think he likes that I wear them. Sure, I wear them because they are comfortable, non-binding, and absolutely the perfect color to match my yoga pants. But, really, I wear them because they smell like him. His cologne. After shave. Man scent. Whatever. It just feels nice--like a constant hug all day long. As Cheese-lined as that last statement came across, I still want to say it. Corny? Sure. But it is completely honest.
And the other reason I wear them? Because they are clean.
Oh sure, point fingers, snicker and laugh at me. Go ahead. But you know damn well you'd do the same thing.
I am the laundromat around here. Picking up clothes at the end of the bed, sorting, collecting, washing and drying. Yep, mostly me. 90% of the time. I'm trying not to complain about that--and really I'm not--as I am lucky enough to work from home most of the time. That puts child caring, laundry, dinner-making, and likely clean up onto my lap most of the time. With all that, well, who can blame me for just grabbing the clean clothes? It's proven (unscientifically of course) clean, comfortable clothes are the best to work in. You know, from the desk in my bedroom while the baby sleeps.
Some days I get bitter about the clothes that tend to wander into the living room or on the backs of the dining room chairs. Or the ones that tend to always be at the foot of the bed instead of in the hamper(s). But, all in all, I know it is the role I play in the house. I work, I care, I do laundry (among other things). My husband, he works, he cares, he snowblows, he mows the lawn, he does car care... and well many other things too. So? We're even. Sorta. As long as I can wear his hoodies.
So, the truth is now known. I wear my husbands sweatshirts and hoodies because I love him AND because they are clean. In that order. Next time he makes the "buy your own damn hoodie" comment, maybe I can pull up this post and show him--that yes, I wear the shirt mostly because I needed a hug that day.
As much as he says he's upset (even stating, "We're gonna get you your own black hoodie!"), I think he likes that I wear them. Sure, I wear them because they are comfortable, non-binding, and absolutely the perfect color to match my yoga pants. But, really, I wear them because they smell like him. His cologne. After shave. Man scent. Whatever. It just feels nice--like a constant hug all day long. As Cheese-lined as that last statement came across, I still want to say it. Corny? Sure. But it is completely honest.
And the other reason I wear them? Because they are clean.
Oh sure, point fingers, snicker and laugh at me. Go ahead. But you know damn well you'd do the same thing.
I am the laundromat around here. Picking up clothes at the end of the bed, sorting, collecting, washing and drying. Yep, mostly me. 90% of the time. I'm trying not to complain about that--and really I'm not--as I am lucky enough to work from home most of the time. That puts child caring, laundry, dinner-making, and likely clean up onto my lap most of the time. With all that, well, who can blame me for just grabbing the clean clothes? It's proven (unscientifically of course) clean, comfortable clothes are the best to work in. You know, from the desk in my bedroom while the baby sleeps.
Some days I get bitter about the clothes that tend to wander into the living room or on the backs of the dining room chairs. Or the ones that tend to always be at the foot of the bed instead of in the hamper(s). But, all in all, I know it is the role I play in the house. I work, I care, I do laundry (among other things). My husband, he works, he cares, he snowblows, he mows the lawn, he does car care... and well many other things too. So? We're even. Sorta. As long as I can wear his hoodies.
So, the truth is now known. I wear my husbands sweatshirts and hoodies because I love him AND because they are clean. In that order. Next time he makes the "buy your own damn hoodie" comment, maybe I can pull up this post and show him--that yes, I wear the shirt mostly because I needed a hug that day.
