What the hell is it with men, anyway? A couple of weeks ago Kyle ordered 4 T-shirts from www.thoseshirts.com (which I recommend, btw). So this morning our conversation goes like this:
Me: “Can I wear one of the shirts you ordered?”
Kyle: (hisses at me, the way he does when I want to use something that “belongs” to him) “Get your own.”
Me: “When you bought them I said we should buy 2, but you said that was a waste of money because we wear the same size, and we could just share.”
Kyle: (hisses again, repeatedly, in spite of me pointing out that I have nothing to do with it).
I deliberate brought up the issue when he was ordering the shirts, because I knew that this conversation was going to occur at some point. I was, of course, right.
This is the same man who yesterday found a quarter on the floor by my closet about 30 seconds after it fell out of the jeans I was hanging up, and refused to give it back because “money is fungible” and “it all belongs to both of us anyway”.
I tried to make him give it back (it’s the principle of the thing), and he just stood there looking at me. So I tossed up my hands and left. “Fine. Whatever. Jeez.”
