I had been sitting in our living room, in the corner near the window of our sprawling, charcoal grey sectional. The television was on, showing one sports game or another, but my attention was split between watching the plays, following the updated statistics on my phone and responding to T’s questions about outfit choices. She had shuttled back and forth between the full-length mirror in our bedroom and her clothes in the front closet a number of times – it didn’t occur to us until months after being in our new apartment that it made more sense to move the mirror closer to the actual clothes – as she got ready for a moms’ night out.
I gave the best input I could muster; it sounds cheesy, of course, but I really did think she looked terrific in everything. I followed her lead, though, and tried to join with her critical view of the way a blouse sat on her shoulders or the way a pair of pants was slightly too snug. I usually didn’t think the details she pointed out were cause for concern – an outfit had to be particularly egregious for me to have a problem with it – but, after twelve years or so (at that point), I had an idea of the way clothes needed to fit in order for T to feel comfortable. I usually knew what she was going to point out when she tried on clothes but I let her tell me how she felt first before offering my opinion. Continue reading “The Nicest Thing I Ever Said to My Wife”
