Please don't read it out loud to your kids.
And please don't read it yourself if certain three and seven letter words offend you.
On Friday, Mr. Jenny decided he needed to run up to Las Vegas on Sunday for a few quick, casual business meetings. He asked me if I would go shopping with him on Saturday to get some new jeans and a shirt.
Luckily for my husband, I've been watching a few 'What Not to Wear' reruns lately AND ironically Clinton Kelly did a wardrobe makeover on a guy on one of them.
Boy oh boy! Saturday morning I was excited.
I waited until we were were at the clothing store to spring the good news on Mr. Jenny. I told him, "This is really your lucky day. I was watching 'What not to Wear' this past week and Clinton re-did a guys wardrobe who also had a little ummm.... tummy.... so we can give the tips a try. Hooray!"
Mr. Jenny looked a little scared and I swear I heard him start to hyperventilate.
I reassured him. "Don't be afraid, sweetie! This is gonna be fun!"
I hunted. I gathered. I bullied Mr. Jenny into trying on clothes he would never wear and we were both surprised. Clinton's tips actually worked.
On the show Clinton had said to wear shirts that hit just a few inches below your ... ummm... tummy ...that were not too tight and not too loose...and how men should wear a little 'pop' of color under their shirts close to their face as further distraction from the ummm... tummy... and how you should always wear a t-shirt under shirts to minimize lumpiness from your ... ummm... tummy...I'm not sure if I made up some of these 'rules' or remembered them clearly, but either way it seemed to work out...
We were both really happy with the whole shirt part of the experiment, however, partway through the try-on process, Mr. Jenny said, "You know, I don't really like how wide these jeans are in the thigh. Can you see if you can find a slightly narrower pair."
So I left the dressing room and went up to the early-20's clerk to ask for help.
"I'm trying to find some jeans for my husband that are a little snugger in the thigh," I said.
She tapped her long, black lacquered nail against her weird orange lipstick and asked me, "Snugger? Ummm...hmmm...well...like...so...ummm...do you want to show off his ass or his package?"
I said, "Huh? Excuse me?"
So she enquired again. "I said...ummm...like...do you want to show off his ass or his package?"
I hesitated and then finally answered, "Ummm...neither...I think. I'm really just looking for some jeans that aren't quite so baggy."
"So...what's this for? What does he want the jeans for?"
I said he wanted them for a casual business meeting.
She tapped her finger. She thought. "Where's the meeting at?" she then enquired.
Huh? Why in the world would that matter?
I asked her, "Huh? Why does that matter?"
"Well, girl, you know how men are...are they're gonna be...like...ummm...any ladies around?"
Okay. It dawned on me that this particular clerk might have gotten brain damage from that weird orange hazmat lipstick AND I realized my husband was probably getting annoyed standing in the dressing room in his underwear waiting for me.
I made an executive decision. I said, "Yeah, so...I think I want them to show off his ass...okay?"
She tapped her black fingernail again. "Ya know, I don't think I can help ya with that," and walked away.
Shaking my head, I went back to the dressing room and told my husband, "It's those jeans or no jeans...just try them back on, OK?"
I looked carefully at his ass. I looked carefully at his package. I'm not sure that the jeans really showed off either, which is just fine with me. We're old. We're fat. We're tired. We don't need to be showing off no asses or packages to the world...you know?
There's a little bit more to this very strange story.
On the way home I told Mr. Jenny I was going to run into Target and get some socks to go with his outfit.
He told me, "First of all, men don't wear 'outfits'. Second of all, I have socks."
I told him that Clinton called 'outfits' outfits and that he definitely needed new socks!
Mr. Jenny rudely told me that Clinton was obviously crazy. (Please don't tell Clinton this. I don't want to hurt his feelings.)
I then enquired quite sweetly what athletes wear...like the clothes that baseball and football players wear that match. "Aren't those outfits?"
Mr. Jenny got a little bit red in the face, "They wear sports gear. It's not called sports 'outfits'. Okay, look, here's a Target. You can run in and get some socks if it will make you feel better. I'm just going to wait in the car."
If I was a suspicious person I would have thought he was just trying to shut me up for a few minutes, you know? But he probably wasn't.
He waited in the car and I ran in! And when I got to the sock section I got really excited becausethe socks I found matched his outfit perfectly.
After we got home, I got the new clothes all ironed and ready for his trip, I laid out the shirts and socks to show him.
He was not impressed.
"Where are the 'real' socks?" he asked.
I told him, 'These are the real socks! Look how perfectly they match!"
"Really? Really? You bought me polka dotted socks?" He didn't seem very appreciative of my efforts.
Seriously. Look at the picture, though. See how the black and blue go together?
Mr. Jenny looked pretty annoyed. He did the whole straight line thing with his mouth and squinched up his eyes and everything. Talk about ungrateful.
"Yeah, but here's the thing," I told him, "Clinton says socks that accent your outfit really show off your ass AND make your package look bigger!"
Okay. That was just a lie. Clinton didn't say anything about socks, asses or packages on the show I watched.
With that food for thought, I just walked away leaving my husband staring after me like a deer in the headlights.
A look possibly similar to the one you have on your face right now after having wasted a minute or so reading this post.
I thought it was funny.
I thought it would make you smile.
And it did.
Okay...ummm... never mind then...