love is

Love is many things. One component of love is the ability of wives to live within a marriage without falling to the desire to poison their husbands.  My wife, who is a good woman, must endure my inability to throw away favorite shirts.

I enjoy t-shirts with inspiring or unique messages and my shirts often gather compliments.  So naturally, I am emotionally attached to my shirts.  Furthermore from my perspective, holes and tattered collars add value.  Why would I discard shirts that are only gaining value?  Shirts are a cloth form of a 401k.

My wife is kind person however her wife’s tolerance has limits. Eventually my shirts decay to a point that tests the foundation of my wife’s sanity and her eyes acquire a t-shirt murdering glint. When I sense her dark nature, I know that I am in danger. However more importantly, I know my tattered shirt is in danger.

Often, my wife decides the best course of action is covert. The offending shirt gets “lost” in the cycle of laundry. When questioned, she innocently responds, “No Honey, I have not seen your red “bazinga” shirt.” Our backyard must be littered with shallow graves for each missing shirt.

Occasionally she takes a direct approach.  My wife’s attack is often surprising and sudden leaving my shirt defenseless.  After a quick scuffle, I am left wondering why shirts are so easily ripped.

Currently, my old green “life is good” shirt is in danger.  I need to devise a plan that will steal a few more months of life.