I’ve been harassing J about getting long johns to wear under his jeans when he’s out shoveling or raking snow off our roof (or his moms). And by harassing, I mean encouraging him to dress warmly and not freeze himself to death. J has been staunchly denying the need for long johns all winter. And I couldn’t bring myself to purchase said items for him for Christmas. I’m fairly certain that when you buy your husband long underwear for Christmas, the romance is over. And, really, who wants long underwear for Christmas, even if you do need and won’t buy it?
And since it was 20 below last week, his mother started to get concerned about his warmth, and brought over some of J’s dad’s long johns that were still at her house. And there’s a moment for gross awkwardness and giggles there. But, with straight face, I did encourage J that they were clean and functional. Even if they had been used by his dad. And they’re not quite the same thing as say, wearing an old pair of his dad’s pants, or an old sweatshirt.
But, J did have some snow chores to take care of at his mom’s on Sunday afternoon. So, he gave in to practicality and put on the long johns.
Meanwhile, I’m in the sun room on Sunday afternoon trying to write… when all of a sudden there’s a great commotion and J leaps. Yes, that’s right. LEAPS. Like a frog. Right into the sun room. With a big THUNK. With nothing on but a white t-shirt and chocolate brown long johns. He proceeds to prance around the sun room modeling while I can’t help but giggle. And I’m not sure if it was the leaping. Or the sight of a man in brown long johns. Or the modeling.
But, the cumulative ridiculousness has provided continuing giggles all week for me. Sitting in my cubicle at work giggling. Reading my book tonight chuckling. Typing the blog post, giggling.
J did give his permission for this to be posted, just in case you were curious.