I decided to try on Gllen's new shirts, to give you, my faithful readers, a better image of the absurdity of it all.
Upon seeing me in the shirts, Gllen says "You look like you weigh 500 pounds." Realizing that this sounded and WAS insulting, he back-pedaled, "I'm sure anyone would." Case in point, Gllen.
In his quest to find shirts that are long enough to fit his six foot four frame, Gllen ordered some shirts from Big & Tall. He overestimated. By five sizes. I think he literally bought the largest shirts they had.
Upon receiving his box of shirts in the mail, he tried one on. It was like looking at an anorexic Santa Claus. He was physically SWIMMING in his shirt. His first words to me were "It fits!" I practically threw up in my mouth. I told him that seeing him wear that shirt made me want to break up with him.
He's not returning any of the XXXLT shirts he ordered. He's going to see if they shrink to the right size in the wash.
Gllen says to me this morning, "I think I'm obsessed. With sauteed onions. Mmmmmmm" The last part ended in a growl. Last night he made at least two batches of fried onions - one to go with liverwurst, and the other to go with a chicken wrap.
So, later this morning, I was next to him on the couch and he asks me "Do I smell?" I had to nod yes. "My shirt?" He asks hopefully.
I had to shake my head. "Everywhere. Like onions."
His eyes widen and he looks slightly panicked. "My god, what have I done?"
He then makes me go with him to the bedroom to help him pick out new clothes, since he has obvioulsy destroyed his olfactory nerves and doesn't want to put on anything smelly after he showers. The entire time he is shaking his head and muttering about how he stinks so bad, ate too many onions and why are the onions so good?
He even asked me, "Why do I have to stink so bad?"
I had to tell him the truth... "Because you're a boy."
