Today at rugby practice I discovered that SB's practice jersey looked especially... tight on him. In typical clueless man fashion he just grabbed a shirt on his way out the door this morning and somehow it did not occur to him until later that perhaps there was a reason it was skin tight and short. Since he sweats like a smelly goat, I am not so pleased. It received an extra wash cycle and I will be sniffing it suspiciously for residual goat smell.
Practice ends at 9 pm or so and after showers and walking home it is quite late. SB has taken up couch potato-ism, as he is just too tired and lazy to move. He sits on the couch with his computer and waits to be fed. If the food carries stain potential, then he wears an apron and waits for the feed trough to arrive. To add to the ambiance he likes to don his hockey jersey that ventilates nicely while he is couch squatting. He suspects that he would have been an awesome child of the late seventies, or whenever muscle shirts were in style.
I know that I must nip this growing habit in the bud before he is a full fledged couch potato. Otherwise our nights of candlelight dinner will be a thing of distant memory.
Practice ends at 9 pm or so and after showers and walking home it is quite late. SB has taken up couch potato-ism, as he is just too tired and lazy to move. He sits on the couch with his computer and waits to be fed. If the food carries stain potential, then he wears an apron and waits for the feed trough to arrive. To add to the ambiance he likes to don his hockey jersey that ventilates nicely while he is couch squatting. He suspects that he would have been an awesome child of the late seventies, or whenever muscle shirts were in style.
I know that I must nip this growing habit in the bud before he is a full fledged couch potato. Otherwise our nights of candlelight dinner will be a thing of distant memory.
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