Occasionally, my husband inspires my writing, too. Today is one of those times.
When I was rapidly getting ready to take the kids to school this morning, I had no time to dress. So I slipped on this super comfy brown jersey dress and flats. When I took Henry into school, so many people complimented me I was getting a bit embarrassed. Even people in the hallway paid tribute to my outfit—it was a great way to start the day. (I should note here that this dress is quite an a.m. wardrobe departure for me. I usually drop-off the kids in work-out clothes and a baseball hat. The fact that I had on anything other than wrinkly pants and a hoodie is cause for notice and probably a parade.)
Thus, I was feeling quite cute in my long, brown jersey dress. I was out running errands and I called my husband to see if he could meet for lunch. Yes! He could! He’ll get to see me looking so sassy!
I picked him up outside his office in my cute mood and sassy dress. He pops into the car and says, “What’s up, sweatpants?”
I had to shake my head to make sure I heard him correctly because I expected to hear, “Babe, you look so nice!”
But no, he indeed said, “What’s up, sweatpants?”
“What’s up, jackass?”
(To minimally defend my husband, three points:
1. I usually AM in sweatpants or clothes that have been sweat on and
2. when I glanced down at the dress while I was sitting, the jersey material did drape over my legs looking suspiciously like sweatpants and
3. when we got out of the car at the restaurant, he genuinely complimented my obviously darling outfit. Smart man.)
So this evening, my hubby and were playfully bantering about his sweatpants comment. I recapped the exchange, and pointed out that maybe my retort should’ve been something like, “What’s up, no-sex-for-a-year?”
He giggled and said, “That’s not funny.” Even though he’s today’s muse, he wasn’t amused.