8 January 2012
Clothes shopping on a winter Saturday afternoon feels pretty much the same as it did when I was a child. Instead of my mother, it's now my wife who drags me from store to store moaning that everything she tries on makes her look fat (it doesn't of course). There's one big improvement though, my wife doesn't attempt to clean food from my face with a hanky moistened with cigarette smelling spit.
In these modern times we carry wipes.
Clothes Shopping • Opuss № I