Hubba-hubba sat on the edge of the bed.
Him: I had to get rid of it. I had to let it go.
Me: What in the world are you talking about?
Him: My shirt. My "Wanna Trade?" shirt! It had a huge hole in the armpit and I decided to throw it out.
Me: Thank God!
This shirt now residing in the trash was a Disney shirt emblazoned with this particular query, which has to do with pin-trading at Disneyland. And the odd thing is that the answer from him would always be a resounding no because he doesn't collect or trade Disney pins. He was expressly forbidden to wear it outside of the house. But of course, when I wasn't around he would do it anyway.
However, it was a cheap shirt, so it could have said almost anything and he would have bought it.
You see, there was a time in his life when Hubba-hubba refused to spend more than five dollars on a shirt. The irony of this is that he had way more money back then, what with no house payment or child.
But, when he thinks he can find a bargain, he can hold his own against any woman digging in the bargain bin. Come to think of it, he has the advantage of size. No wonder he always shows up with some god-awful shirt, crowing, "But I only paid three bucks!"
Yeah, well, it looks like it buddy, it sure does look like it.