My Patient Husband loses his shirt — repeatedly

It is, technically, his sweater. I bought it for him.

He has worn it maybe five times in twelve years, and every time, my first thought is, “Why is my Patient Husband wearing my sweater?”

Let me explain. During my first pregnancy, one book said the best place for early maternity shopping was in my husband’s closet. If you’ve seen my husband’s closet, you’ll know that most of his clothes aren’t really my taste, especially in the early years of our marriage when I hadn’t bought him a lot of clothes yet.

I ended up at Filene’s Basement and saw a really nice sweater in the men’s section for not a lot of money, and I thought, this is perfect. It was large, so it would fit my husband. But first, I would wear it during early pregnancy.

You can write the rest of the story yourself. He said that after the first year or two, he had given up any real claim to the sweater.

What about the sweater he bought me for Christmas one year? I never wore it because for some reason, it registered in my brain that it was his. Now I wear it, but for years, I kept putting it back to his side of the shelf, and he’d keep putting it back to mine. He thought I didn’t like it. Actually, I do, but I was too busy wearing his other sweater to deal with the guilt of stealing two of his.

Last December, faced with maternity pajamas that would only fit women in their second month of pregnancy (even in extra large sizes — thank you for nothing, Motherhood) I went into the men’s section of Target and picked out some men’s large flannel pajamas in a color scheme I knew my Patient Husband would like. I came home and said, “These will be for you, but I’m going to wear them for about six months.”

I think he knew what would happen, don’t you? I mean, he’s been married to me for thirteen years now. It can’t be a mystery if you yourself have predicted it after only reading my weblog for one.

The night I had Kiddo#4, I labored in those pajamas, and I was still wearing the shirt when I had him. (The midwife kept trying to convince me to get out of the pajama pants. “You’d make me very happy,” she said.)

Well, I’m still using those pajamas. They’re far too big and I have to hitch them up when I take the steps, but they’re comfy, and seriously, I wear them and think of cuddling my sleepy newborn. How could I give them away?

My Patient Husband knows the answer is probably something like “I’ll have to pry those from her cold dead fingers,” but then again, he knew that all along.

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About philangelus

Mom, freelance writer, novelist, angelphile, Catholic, know-it-all.
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