I was treated to a nice little act this morning.
When GOM got up- later than usual- he rushed off to have his shower, & came out dressed in his 'working about home' garb.
This consists of trackpants, a T shirt, & a Polar fleece top. For years, he refused to wear trackpants, on the grounds that they very often look quite indecent, & tend to display men's 'kit & kaboodle' rather excessively, and/or obscenely.
I finally managed to convince him, if they fit well enough, they were perfectly acceptable, & were twice as warm as conventional trousers, & also given to a greater degree of comfort.
As he is mostly very reluctant to purchase new clothes since his retirement, I quite often buy things for him, out of desperation, since he tends to wear things until they are falling apart.
One particular pair of trackies, were on sale for some ridiculously cheap price, so I bought him a pair. When I got them home & he eventually tried them on, it was obvious they were a touch large for him. In fact they came up to his armpits almost! If he pulled them down to the area that now passes for his waist, the arse bag is almost down to his knees.
So of course, they are the cause of much hilarity to the whole family. They call him 'Harry High Pants', when he wears them. I offered to take them to exchange for a smaller size, but in his little display of perversity, he insisted he was keeping them, & wore them, so I could not exchange them.
So this morning he came out with the large trackies pulled almost to his armpits, & I burst out laughing. Then had to tell him to please not make me laugh, it hurts. He then proceeded to do an impression of a lumbering ape, with hands to his knees. Capering about, grunting, & leering at me. Which of course made me laugh harder.
I think he has a sadistic streak in him, somehow.
And I recall, a shirt I once bought him, once again on sale. When he tried it on, he was appalled that the sleeves, which were meant to be short were almost to his wrist. And he insisted on wearing it, & mocking me each time he did. We had had a series of shirts that had been far too small for him, in spite of being labelled XL for Extra Large. So naturally I was trying to prevent repeats by getting him XXL.
He flapped about saying he was about to depart on safari, & would just go & change into his tent.
And it reminded me of a man we knew who had been stationed in Singapore with the Army. His wife, was apparently a very large woman, & he used to tell stories about her. (We never met her) One of his stories was when she had wanted to buy a new bra, she had gone to the largest Department store in Singapore, & asked for the Undergarment section. The assistant had asked her what she wished to buy, & when she told her a new bra, he insisted the assistant had said, "Yes madam the tent section is over there!" A patent lie of course, but he got a laugh.
I get furious with GOM at times for not being sensible, & just buying himself much needed new clothing. He will look at shoes for months before actually buying a pair, whereas I make a choice with lightning speed & just buy them. I cant understand all the pfaffing about. If they fit, get them.
I have finished all the extreme pain meds, & am the normal Paracetamol for pain relief. I just feel as though I have been socked, good & hard on the jaw.
All the little floating ends of the stitches are quite disconcerting. I wondered if some passing insect had wandered in there, while I was sleeping slack jawed, but realise it is only the ends of sutures, & they will dissolve.
Ben E. King, Spanish Harlem