Thursday, February 28, 2008

Tim's Closet

Tim and I share a bedroom. We share our bed. We do not, however, share a closet. He has one, I have one. His is full. It contains a lot of hunting stuff. It contains a lot of fishing stuff. He's got car books, and he's got some tools stashed in the closet.
There is even some amount of clothes in there.
One day, I looked at his overflowing closet.
I decided to clean this thing out.
Oh. My. Gosh.
There were some seriously outdated clothes in there. Platform shoes from the '70s for pity's sake. And as I tore through the closet, I found shirts with collars so huge that the wearer could be swept away in a strong wind, collar beating like a set of wings. We live on a mountain, and the wind is a fact of life.
This began to look like a rescue mission.
There were polyester pants.
There were ugly acrylic sweaters that he would never wear.
I kept digging, and the pile grew larger.
Tim returned from where ever he had been and caught me in the middle of my task. "What are you doing?" he asked. So I explained to him that these clothes were sadly out of date, and they were certainly not things that he'd ever wear again.
Tim said, "I might want to wear those."
His wife said, "Over my dead body."
His mouth took on that stubborn set. "They still fit."
He had me there. The clothes still do fit. The freak still wears the same size he did in high school. By golly, if that is not illegal, it damn well should be, and someday, I'm going to write a letter to the president.
I tried to reason with him. "Jeepers, Tim, look at this stuff. It's horrible. I don't want you wearing stuff like this. NOBODY wears stuff like this anymore...."
and Tim began picking through his pile, saying, "I like this, though.
And this is good.
And my sister gave me this...."
I was immediately fearstricken, and without another word, I began to hang the stuff back in the closet, as far back as I could hang it. The clothes still fit, friends. I knew that if I pushed the issue, he'd begin actually wearing these clothes. In public. Just to make sure that I was not throwing anything away based on the 'he never wears it' factor.
Post Script: Tim was reading online about ladybug traps last weekend. He read that they are attracted to blacklights. "I've got one of those," he exclaimed, and up the stairs he went.
Sure enough, from the depths of that closet, he pulled a black light.
As I stared at him in astonishment, I found myself thinking yet again, "What do I really know about this man?" And I get a little worried about what I don't know. Even after 10 years.
I've also become even more frightened of his closet.


Hal Johnson said...

Poor Tim. You women just don't understand. (;)

Heh. My wife won't get near my closet unless she's armed.

debby said...

It would be kind of hard to clean a closet without arms. LOL!

A said...

Fear of closets is totally understandable, IMO!
Don't fear what you don't know about a person though - That's what keeps things exciting. Sort of like finding a surprise $20 in your pocket on laundry day.

debby said...

Um, A? Can I ask a question? What is IMO stand for?

I am not afraid of what I don't know about Tim actually. It's just a bit shocking when you find out something that you wouldn't expect at all. I've learned to never think that I've got that man figured out. You're right. It is exciting. Sometimes nervewracking. One or the other.

Finally...can I come do your laundry? LOL!

A said...

IMO is In My Opinion. (At least, that's what I mean it to stand for!)
And you can come and do the laundry ANY time!