As I sat beside the pool while on vacation in Florida, mending a shirt of my husband, Marc’s, my mom arrived to visit. “What in the world are you doing?” she asked as she took one look at the fabric I was holding in my hands.
“Fixing Marc’s shirt for him,” I relied as I pulled my sunglasses down so she wouldn’t miss me rolling my eyes.
“Fixing is a generous word, don’t you think?” she answered as she crocked her head for a closer look. “That thing is full of holes? Wouldn’t the garbage be a better place for it?”
Marc awoken from his nap at the utterance of those words, after all they are fighting words in his book. “Garbage? Never!” He exclaimed. “That is my favorite shirt! It is so comfortable…” As his words trailed off, my mom and I looked at each other in disbelief, thinking for sure that this man is crazy….
That was two years ago.
He still has the shirt.
It has even more holes in it now than before.
There is not enough thread in the world to mend it, but yet, week after week he continues to wear it. I tried to put it in the rag pile, but Marc didn’t stand for that. No Sir! He grabbed it out, and proudly put it back on his body, once again exclaiming how comfortable the shirt is. Seriously, I don’t get it….
I was starting to think he was crazy, but thanks to my friends at BlogHer, I know I am not alone in this battle… Marc and his feeling about clothes, has to be a man thing…
Not only does he hang on to special shirts until they die (although I don’t know if this particular shirt will ever die) he wears the same rotation of shirts week after week, even though he has a closet full of new shirts with the tags still on them.
“Why don’t you wear the green shirt for a change? I love the color and you haven’t worn it yet.” I asked Marc one day as we were getting ready to go out, and he once again pulled a shirt from the usual rotation.
“Nope, can’t do,” He answered.
“What do you mean ‘can’t do’? All you have to do is put it on and wear it.”
“No, I can’t do that. I have to use up the other inventory first.” He said with a straight face.
“Inventory?” I asked exasperated. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t wear new shirts until the old ones are gone,” he tried to explain. I think I would have had an easier time understanding quantum physics than his rotation rationalization. “If I give a shirt to one of the nephews or send one down to your mom’s in Florida, then I can use a new one. But until I use up the existing inventory, I can’t add shirts to the rotation. It will totally mess up the inventory management system.”
“You do realize that we are in real life, don’t you?” I asked. “You are not running a department store, you are getting dressed. You can mix up the fashion a little bit you know. Hey, look at me,” I commanded as I extended my arms to show off all the clothes in my closet that I am always mixing and matching and more importantly wearing.
“You know you make a good point,” he commented. Finally, he was coming to his fashion senses, I thought, until he clarified, “in theory. But, it doesn’t work that way in real life. Inventory management is a science you know…” And then, he walked away.
I tried to force his hand by mixing up his shirts and hiding his old ones, but he found them. The next step is I am smuggling some of the old shirts to my office. Let’s see what Mr. Inventory Management System does then…
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