Betty wont play that

I count myself as lucky that I married a man who cares nothing for products and fashion. He’s a very handsome t-shirt and jeans guy who rocks button-ups for holidays and dates. The up-side to having a down-home guy’s guy for a husband is that I get to be the flashy one with questionable taste. i.e., I can buy jeans with gold embroidery because there is absolutely no danger that B will do the same. The only down-side is B’s unfortunate habit of wearing white tube socks and black leather slip on shoes with shorts, which I have let him know on several occasions is almost the same thing as screaming “I hate you” at the world. You could say it is somewhat of an “issue” with us. But lately I have become more zen about his unfortunate choices below the knee. Why? Because ever since we got the news from the ultrasound technician that the baby was probably not a boy, I’ve known that I will no longer have to bear this burden alone. I rest easier because I know for a cold hard fact that any daughter ever will cut a Daddy down before allowing him to even drive her to school without looking correct. He really has no idea - I almost feel sorry for him.