From the Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus files or, as my #1 circus clown put it, “what a dude!” files…
This weekend is my husband’s 30th high school reunion…whoo-hoo! Both of us are looking forward to attending this event. Bill will get to catch up with old friends. I will get to enjoy all the playful jokes about Bill’s big-assed afro he had back in the day. I will also be, for the first time, not pregnant or impaired with a full arm cast. I didn’t attend his high school. I don’t know pretty much anyone there, with the exception of the friends whom Bill has kept close contact with. Still I want to look nice. I want Bill to be proud of his wife, who isn’t hugely great with child or injured, on his arm. Does he care? I like to think that he does. I know I care.
So I find what I believe to be the perfect dress.
It’s simple…elegant…compliments my hair, my eyes, my pale skin…COMFORTABLE…affordable. I pull it out to show off to my girls and realize that my dark purple suede Christian Louboutins compliment this dress’ color perfectly…perfectly. But I demur just a little. I am so pale…I’m not sure I can pull off the Loubies with a bare leg…but I know stockings is so much like your grandma…Yeah, a lot of my hesitation is I don’t want to necessarily call attention to myself. I just want to be acceptable…but not standing out in the crowd. My girls protest when I suggest a pair of brown platform sandals instead. They demand that I must wear the Loubies. The Loubies and the dress are made for each other. My legs, my pale skin, my red hair, the dress demand that I wear the Loubies. Only a girl could really get this. I have quite a few daughters. They get this.
Still I hesitate.
Holly then realizes thanks to pregnancy she just might be able to fit in and rock my Loubies…
I snatch them away, put them on my feet and decide that yes, these are the shoes to wear this weekend.
So later this evening, at dinner, I share with my darling husband how my darling daughter tried to get her tiny feet into the Christian Louboutins that he bought me. He looks up at me…chewing his dinner…then says, “I bought you Louboutins?”
“Yes dear. You did.”
“I don’t remember ever doing that.”
“It was after you bought that damn motorcycle without telling me that you were going to buy that damn motorcycle. Holly suggested that you needed to buy me these shoes (and their buddies, also Christian Louboutins, after I hadn’t spoke to you for two weeks. So you bought them.”
“I did that?”
In the words of his own child he was so enamored with his Harley that he hardly noticed a$700 pair of shoes…or perhaps two pair. $1400 compared to an $11,000+ purchase made without even discussing with your spouse. Need we really even discuss this? I didn’t think so! I deserved those shoes!
Yet he can’t even remember buying them.
What a dude!
Well all I can say is the dude better notice the shoes and the lady wearing them this weekend…especially the lady…HIS lady wearing him. Hopefully he will never forget those Loubies ever again.
He’s a very smart man. I’m sure that he won’t.