While I was away on my last trip, my wife told me about a chat she had with our female mail carrier. My wife was sitting on our large front porch chatting on the phone when the mail carrier reached our house on her route. She stopped her little van out front, grabbed a few packages out the back of it and came huffing across the lawn with them. The exchange went something like:
"My word," the mail carrier remarked when she reached the porch. "You order more clothes than I ever seen."
"It ain't me," remarked my wife. "It's my husband. He shops for me."
"But, those are girl clothes . . ."
"Yes, they are."
Long pause.
"So . . . . did he pick out what you're wearing now?" the carrier asked.
"He sure did," my wife replied.
Another awkward pause. "OK. Well, I have to say he's got good taste. Tell him I'm a 1x and I take hand me downs. New stuff , too."
They laughed, chatted some more, then the carrier left. I asked my wife why she felt it necessary to tell the carrier I bought the stuff when all the packages had her (my wife's) name on it. She said the carrier asking made her nervous.
"More nervous than telling her I ordered them?" I quipped.
"Didn't think about that until I had already said it," was her reply.
Wonder if I'll be the first to be innocently outted by a nervous spouse.