Men!

Him indoors went shopping yesterday.  Nothing new in that - because of all my health problems he does all the food shopping anyway and has got it down to a fine art.  No, he wanted to go shopping for clothes for himself.  My heart sank.  You see, all our married life I have chosen all his clothes for him.  Left to himself he would still be in his wedding suit! I know his size down to the last centimetre, I know what looks good on him so he has left it to me.

He decided he wanted some new shorts (now why did he wait until we are rapidly approaching Autumn to decide he wanted them) and a new pair of trousers. I knew this was going to be a major expedition and he would be gone several hours.  I was right.  I did get a phone call halfway through to say he had found nothing in our nearest big town and was going on elsewhere.

Five hours elapsed before he came home muttering about "bloody shops". I asked him if he had got the shorts. " One pair" he replied and disappeared into the bedroom.  He came back in what I can only describe as cut-down trousers - long Bermudas I think you would have to call them.  "Mike, I said, "you do not like Khaki".  "No, I don't " said he "but they are reversible" - lifting one leg to show me the other side which is a garish tartan. "But, you won't wear them that way, much to bright for you." "No, came the reply "but I could  if I wanted to."  Such is the logic of my beloved.

I then asked about the trousers.  He told me he got a great pair, lovely quality - "Of course" says he "they are about five inches too long and will have to be taken up".  "Five inches too long - Mike you know your inside leg measurement - why did you buy a pair five inches too long?"  "Ah, came the reply "if you bought these trousers you got a pair of trainers for five pounds".  Men!!!!!!!!!!

He thought the trainers were so great he insisted on putting them on and keeping them on, white and silver they are.  I did not have the heart to tell him that they make his size nine feet look like size fourteen!

So tonight there he sat in the chair in his Khaki cut-downs, his enormous trainers, snoring, open-mouthed.  I thought - he only needs a knotted hankie on his head and we can dispense with the sign that says "I am British"!

Pass me a catalogue somebody.............