Mr. Fixit and I have some strange conversations. This is the latest example.
When a woman reaches my time of life, simply buying clothing can be a difficult chore. Take blouses (or shirts). Several things have to taken into consideration. For instance, sleeve length. I live in a warm climate so I can't abide long sleeves in summer. But, by the same token, I don't want them so short that the hangy-downy flab that ripples in the breeze on my upper arms shows. Also I like the length of the shirt to cover all the flaws on my torso, back and front. It must button up high enough that my modesty is preserved. I also don't want clingy knits for obvious reasons. Cotton or cotton blends work just fine for me. Since I am a pastel sort of person, I don't wear bright colors, big patterns, and palm trees and parrots blouses. Shirts with all my requirements are scarce. When I find them, I usually purchase more than one in different colors.
I did find the some shirts in a nationally known chain with all my wants and needs. I bought two.
Today while we were running errands I asked Mr. Fixit if we could go back to the same store to see if they had any more in different colors. Then I changed my mind. "No," I said, "if we go today I'll have to go home and change my shirt first." I was wearing one of the new ones I had purchased.
He gave me that look. "Why do you need to change your shirt?"
I explained my thinking. "If I go in wearing this shirt and buy another one just like it, someone may think I swiped the one I'm wearing." It seemed perfectly logical to me.
He said, (get ready) "I'm sure if someone accuses you of stealing, they surely have video cameras in the store which will prove you were wearing the shirt when you came in. When we prove you didn't steal the shirt, we can sue them for $500,000 for falsely accusing you of stealing."
It's a real toss-up. Who's the nut in this family?
BTW, I didn't go shopping for shirts today. Tomorrow is another day, and I'll be wearing a different shirt.