You will all remember the story of my husband's
recent suit purchase. Mm-hmm. Well shortly after that purchase, my husband discovered that the Men's Wearhouse was having a sale: buy one, get one for $100. Needless to say, he phoned the store and squared away the issue toute de suite. We drove up the next day to select his second suit. I was totally on board with this, because now he was getting $1500 worth of suits for only $600. He will wear at least one of these suits when he is buried, and since we are planning a long and healthy life together, I feel this was money well-spent. Also, as soon as he found out, he called Paige to tell her the good news. I kid you not. And she suggested he get a summer suit. He was thrilled with the idea.
The suits are tailored, and we are expecting them via UPS by Thursday of this past week. They never show up. I start panicking, recalling our recent
home invasion. I begin to think that someone is watching our home and stealing from us at every opportunity. I call the Men's Wearhouse on Saturday, and after checking the tracking numbers, they assure me it was delivered on Thursday. I am angry at the oddly effeminate clerk, even though it's not his fault. I am less than polite. I spend my entire morning sick over the theft. I finally meet up with my husband in a neighboring town where he is preparing to march in a local parade. I can hardly stand the angst. I tell him my suspicions and how sick I am.
*blink*blink*blink*"Baby. They came. I hid them and was going to put one on Sunday morning to surprise you."

Sure enough, there in the garage amidst my potato pearls and red wheat is a box from the Men's Wearhouse. Mm-hmm.
I call the extremely effeminate salesclerk back and apologize profusely for my rudeness. I tell him he can stop trying to track my package, as my husband received it and was planning to surprise me. Mr. Effeminate immediately takes my side and says, "That was a VERY BAD surprise! VERY BAD!!" I tell him I completely agree, and that I love his shoes.
But seriously, how can you stay mad at this:

Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln. He tried them on today and then made it up to me by allowing me to photograph him in the lost-no-more suits. Back up off the screen, ladies. He's a kept man.

Also, he is awesome because of this:
Referencing the earlier break-in, you will recall my phone was stolen. I resist change. I loathe it, actually. I am a creature of habit if ever there was one. So having to get a new phone was torture for me. I loved my ancient Motorola. Yes, it is thicker than a quarter pounder with cheese, but I love it. So my finely-clad man went on Ebay and found the same ancient model. (Yes, I did inspect it thoroughly to make sure we didn't just buy my actual phone from the thieves themselves. It was missing a key scratch on the antenna. I know these things.)
Anyway. I am happy to have "my" phone back. I know which buttons to push and how it works. I am happy my husband, in spite of his "surprise" of $600 being flushed down the toilet, looks so damn good and is equally as happy.
Life is good again.