This is Why I Pick Out His Clothes

I did my shopping at Kohls for Ron's birthday, as usual.  I bought him a couple of pairs of sneakers, some new slippers (because his stunk so bad that I threw them out the front door...), and a fleece jacket.  Unfortunately, only 2 out of 4 of his presents were keepers.  One pair of shoes was too small, and the jacket didn't fit right.

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:

Ron: "How do you like this?"

Me: "Are you Serious?"

Ron: "Yes."

Me: "I don't.  Not at all"

Ron: "You really don't? But the sleeves unzip to turn it into a vest."

Me: "You're serious."

Ron: "Yes, I'm serious.  You really don't like this?"

Me: "No.  It's awful.  All that's missing is plaid pants and a cane."

Ron: "But the sleeves unzip."

Me: "That makes it worse.  Not better.  I'm telling you, that does NOT look cool."

Ron: "Oh.  I thought this was like the best jacket ever."

Me: "You really did?  Did you look in the mirror?"

Ron: "Yea, I really thought I looked stylish.  I guess that's why you do the shopping."

Yes, honey.  This is perfect evidence of why I do the shopping for you and the children.