A Wife’s Disgust, Briefly Unpacked

My wife is disgusted by a grey sweatshirt I’ve chosen to wear. “You look like a frightening street person,” she says and leaves the room.

Disgusted by the sweatshirt, I say, although probably more accurate to say with my inclination to wear it — and with herself, finally, for having lacked the necessary rigor while choosing a spouse.

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4 thoughts on “A Wife’s Disgust, Briefly Unpacked

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