The way to a man’s heart…

…is through his holey underwear (not to be confused with "holy"…)

It’s true.

The old saying about through his stomache? It’s just not true these days.

For me.

And that’s a good thing because I can’t cook.

So I had to find another way to let him know I cared.

On Easter, Chewie showed up at my parent’s house after church dressed in a suit and tie. Looked sharp.

Then he took his shoes off. And much to my dismay, revealed a pair of gray (used to be white) holey socks.

He was no longer looking so sharp.

I told him he should have worn his black dress socks.

He couldn’t find them, he claims.

But I suppose in the midst of the chaos that is his sock drawer, I would have given up long before succeeding myself.

His sock door provides room and board for a vast orphanage of mismatched, old, dirty, discolored, holey, warn-thin socks.

It’s honorable, really that he cares so much for these orphan socks and doesn’t want to just throw them away. He thinks they deserve a good home, too.

And more importantly, he thinks they deserve a chance to be worn just like regular, new, clean, non-worn-thin socks.

This…is NOT true.

Socks need to be clean and, well…in one piece.

Which brings me to the next point: underwear.

As I was doing laundry last week, I noticed a lot of Chewie’s underwear had holes in them as well.

Which is a complete mystery to me. I do not know how one’s underwear gets a hole in it. Or holes. Did it get caught on the fence you were hopping? Did you drop a lit match that burned through the fabric?

Maybe he just farts so damn hard it literally burns through the fabric. Remember that entry I wrote a long time ago about farts ruining relationships? It’s true.

In any event, I had a conversation with Chewie about what we could do to update his undergarment collection.

He was unwilling to do anything and thought everything was "fine."

Well of course I disagreed.

So I went to the store and bought 16 new pairs of boxer briefs, and 24 new pairs of sox. I could get away with it because Chewie was up at the cabin all weekend.

Then when I got home, I went through both orphanages, and got rid of everything that was old, warn, holey, ugly, etc. AND I found his pairs of black dress socks. So basically, I kept about 4 pairs of boxers and 6 pairs of socks – and threw away a whole trash can full.

I organized everything, matched all of the remaining socks, folded everything, and put a sweet little card on his dresser. The card told him how much I loved him and blah, blah blah.

When he got hom from working all weekend at the cabin, he jumped in the shower. When he went to his underwear drawer and discovered the card and new socks and underwear he was touched. Genuinely touched.

I thought he was faking it.

He told me that was the nicest thing anyone had done for him. Again, I thought he was being sarcastic. It’s underwear for God’s sake.

But he gave me a huge hug and a kiss and told me he appreciates how I take care of him, and that no one had ever done anything like that for him.

Then he said he wasn’t generally opposed to getting rid of the old stuff, he just didn’t have the money to get new stuff.

When he woke up this morning again he told me how much he appreciated it. He said it meant to him what it means to me when he brings me fresh straweberries. He has always bought me fresh strawberries the way most men buy flowers.

So, there you have it. A lesson from the love doctor.

Shower your man with undergarments and he will love you forever.