Greg went out of town for the weekend, and I lost an hour of my life yesterday afternoon watching him pack. Greg’s packing regimen used to be simple — one pair of pants, two shirts, and enough socks and underwear for each day. And this was always his packing regimen. Even when we were going away for two weeks, he would pack only one pair of pants … wait, actually, he didn’t even pack them, he just wore them. He would lay out one pair of pants to wear the whole trip. Then, he would stuff everything else into his backpack.
Times have changed. Greg agonized over every article of clothing yesterday. The high temperature in Wisconsin, where he was headed, was forecast to be in the 70s. I told him to pack a couple T-shirts and one sweater. Well, he didn’t have any T-shirts to wear. Or at least that’s what he said. What about the green one? No, it’s too fitted. What about the black one? No, that one gets too hot. He couldn’t even decide which tae kwon do uniform to wear because both the drawstring pants and the elastic pants have their advantages.
When he finally had a week’s worth of clothes lying on the bed, he turned and looked at his backpack. “This isn’t going to fit in there, is it?” he asked. “I don’t think so,” I said. “And you haven’t even packed your makeup yet.”
My husband is turning into a girl.