I'm not just opening this entry in this manner as a way to justify the fact that my Mother's Day present to Shelbi yesterday was letting her pay for us to see Iron Man 2. (It's not my fault that Mother's Day fell one day before pay day this year.) What I'm actually getting at is that, over the weekend, I believe Shelbi and I each gave each other perhaps the best and most selfless gifts either of us have ever received. 

We each agreed to give away the one T-shirt in our wardrobe that the other person utterly despised.

In my estimation there can be no truer display of love. I think every couple in history has dealt with this problem. Your significant other always has that one item of clothing that, for whatever reason, you can't stand. I'm convinced that, at some point, Eve looked over at Adam and said " Ugh, really? The fig leaves again? I am not going to be seen at the Tree of Knowledge with you looking like that."

More often than not, the article of clothing is fairly innocuous. It's rarely the pair of ripped jeans or the sweatshirt with paint stains on it. If anything, those items can often be endearing. No, it's usually something that the individual has had for a long time that seems to always find its way to the front of the rotation once or twice a month generally on weekends or for a quick jaunt to the store.

So when Shelbi and I were de-cluttering this weekend and being fairly liberal with things we were throwing away or giving to Good Will, we both went through our dressers and decided that, after surviving at least a dozen cuts in the past five years, it was finally time for a pair of good friend to be sent into retirement.

My shirt was a bright blue XXL that hung down to my mid-thighs. It was a thrift store find in Central Oregon for $1 which, prior to Shelbi could have described 90% of my clothes. Emblazoned on the front were the letters MDS, which stands for Mennonite Disaster Service. I thought it was amusing at the time and, over the years it served its purpose as a shirt to play basketball in or to wear while working in the yard. But, every time I would reach into my dresser and Shelbi would catch a dazzling glimpse or royal blue she would instantly say "No. Noooo! No no no. Not that shirt. I don't care if you're just mowing the lawn. I hate it. That shirt raises my blood pressure." Of course there is a fundamental difference between men and women. When a woman is told that her shirt is ugly and fits terribly, it is often burned within 30 seconds. But, knowing that Shelbi hated my Mennonite shirt so much, I flaunted it, often breaking it out when she least expected it. I would walk into the room, clear my throat and put my hands on my hips, making sure she saw me.

Shelbi wasn't quite as brazen when it came to her abominable shirt. She wore it very infrequently knowing my feelings on it but it still sat in the bottom of her dresser for years as countless other more innocent shirts found their way to Good Will before it. Her shirt is white and long-sleeved. It was purchased in Kona, Hawaii and just screams: "Hey, I have $20 and want to look like a tourist. But not just any tourist. Give me something that says I will literally buy anything that proves I've been somewhere." It is from a company called UFO Parasail and has a brightly colored picture of an alien parasailing on the back. From that description alone, you can tell it's a terrible T-shirt. But is it really bad enough that, every time Shelbi wore it, I subconsciously became kind of a jerk to her? Probably not. 

But now those shirts are gone. And so is my hideous but nostalgic tie-dyed shirt that says "Love the Earth, People" but had flowers over some of the letters which made it look like "Love the Fart People." But my Fit Kids are Glad Kids Junior High Fun Run shirt with a bleach stain on it still has a home.