The problem with reading your husband’s mind is that they start to expect it of you. His company Christmas party is tonight. I hate this party. It is awful. I dread it all year. But it is tonight. I don’t know where it is. I don’t know because he doesn’t know. Now, he isn’t some peon who didn’t get the memo. He is founder, president, and CEO of this company. I’m sure they told him. But he doesn’t pay attention very well. So I just called him to find out where it is. I’m going to work now and need to take party clothes with me. Men don’t understand this but I need to know where we are going to know what to bring.
It is 12:15. The party is at 6:30. He still doesn’t know where it is. I suggest he find out. I’m sure it has been on the announcement bulletin board for months. I consider calling the main line instead of his private line because I’m sure that anyone else who answered the phone would know where the party is. He tells me that it is at a restaurant. Thanks, I figured that. Then the man says to me, in all seriousness,
“Wear the thing you wore to that other thing.”
I bust out laughing. He can’t figure out why I’m laughing. I tell him that I need more than that. He repeats, “You know, the thing you wore to that other thing” like that makes perfect sense and if he just repeats it again I’ll come to my senses.
Eventually he tells me about a white turtleneck, a coat, and the shoes “you love but can’t walk in.” Unfortunately that made perfect sense to me.
