Sunday, August 22, 2010


So you know last week when I said that I rarely pull rank or get all bitchy on Mario? Well, I had to pull rank on him this week. Of course it was totally about something that I thought I would never do. I had to veto what he was wearing.

I hate when ladies tell their man what to wear. I have a friend who used to choose what her husband would wear to events. Not an every day thing but she'd go bye his clothes, shoes, and any accessories she liked. I can't tell you how many times they'd go out and she'd tell him to go back upstairs and change. I would give her a lot of crap for that. Why not let the man be himself and choose his own clothes...he's a big boy, he can handle it.

So telling Mario what to wear has never been on my list of things to do in the morning. I have a hard enough time choosing what I'm wearing, without figuring out what he should wear. Until last Friday. I was still laying in bed. We were talking while he was getting ready. I saw him put on a tshirt. I saw him shake out a pair of cargo shorts. I saw him put on his leather sandals. He went into the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth. He picked up his computer bag and had it on his shoulder. Then as he turned to say goodbye, I saw he was wearing sweat shorts...his scuzzy sweat shorts. What the hell happened to the cargo shorts?

Me...Honey you can not wear your those shorts to work!

Mars...I'm going to wear my pajamas to work

Me...No you can't babe, those are not appropriate for work

Mario...Look I'm going to be sitting in the dark all day, I might as well be wearing pajamas

Me...I understand you wearing sweats when you have to work on the weekends, but not during the week. Your boss is going to be there.

Mario...I don't care

Me...Look I know you are over worked and need a break, but you still want them to hire you back for the next show


He sat on the bed while and totally pouted while I went to get a pair of shorts out of the dryer.

Cut to Saturday morning. We were getting ready for a picnic, he strolled out of the bedroom in his sweatpants with a big shit eating grin on his face. Very happy man.

Although, now that I look back I can't decide what was more of a problem, wearing sweat shorts to work or wearing sweat shorts with nice leather sandals.

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