Tuesday, October 25, 2022


Eli 21.2 convinced me to sign up for a clothing service that sends you clothes so he could review my purchases. This was in an attempt to "up" my dating wardrobe, which consists entirely of "nice" jeans and a few shirts with buttons. 

I know, that sounds bad. When you're a hockey dad, though, you don't exactly wind up with a brimming wardrobe. Not that mine would have looked any different, anyway. 

He signed up, too, and his monthly shipment (mine comes every three months) came to me instead of his address in Ann Arbor. I thought it was mine and picked out a jacket and a really outstanding belt. 

As it turned out, though, I'd opened his shipment instead. And he paid for it, which I particularly enjoyed. 

One problem, though: the belt I loved didn't fit me because his waist is 29 and mine is 33. So he got a nice belt, which was only fair, since he paid for it. 

I asked him to send me the brand of the belt from his invoice so I could order one in my size, but he kept forgetting. This cycle repeated several times. It happens with low-importance items.

This morning, I decided to change my strategy and texted him this:
There was a young boy at college
Who kept all the belt-related knowledge
Though his dad implored
He was promptly ignored
And his pants collapsed under the haulage. 

Three minute later, he texted back: Okay, that got me. 

I ordered the belt.

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