My Terrible Sense of Style Destroyed My Marriage

Who has time for getting spruced up after marriage? Once you’re married, you’re married right? And then you’re busy! You’re busybusybusy! With work and paying the bills and maybe buying a house or a boat or something even stupider, like a $1,300 mountain bike that will never even so much as sniff a mountain’s fart and will instead make exactly one meek and humbling trip around your local nature trail.


Then you have kids. And oh my God, forget about it. You’re busy! You’re busybusybusy. You’re married. You’re busy. You’re hungry. You’re gaining weight. It comes with the territory.

At Walmart one Saturday afternoon, you look around and no one’s looking, so you throw one of those six-packs of white Fruit of the Loom V-neck undershirts in your cart. You start wearing them around the house. They’re strangely comfortable—like a new kiss with an old lover. Then you start wearing them out into the world a little bit. What’s the harm, you know? They’re comfortable, you tell you’re wife when she mentions them.

I’m comfortable, you whisper to the winds of change. Leave me alone.

And the winds of change abide.

And pretty soon you’re dressing like sh*t every chance you get, a little plump married man.

Read the Rest Over at Your Tango — 
Single Dad Confession: Dressing Badly Really Hurt My Marriage

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