I offered to do the returns for him. I figured I'd be able to easily exchange the sneakers for a half-size up, and pick out a different fleece for him. However, for some reason unbeknownst to me, my dear husband decided to venture into a clothing retail store on his own this afternoon. He came home proud that he actually took matters into his own hands, and did his own returning.
As I was preparing dinner, Ron walked in showing off his new "jacket." I'm not really sure it can be called that. Perhaps it's more of a sweatshirt? Or a parka? I really don't know. What I do know is that it is God-awful, and this man shall never be permitted to pick out his own clothing. See for yourself: