P,
In the spirit of Lent, I am combining what I think are appropriate themes to not only sacrifice myself—no Starbucks until Easter for me–but uplift hubby’s prospects. He is, after all, a man like Jesus–though some would say they share little in common besides a desire to martyr themselves. I, however, have decided to turn a season of repentance into one of giving by allowing him to choose, for me, what he considers more suitable underwear. It appears, you see, that my choice in undergarments has become a little tired for the old ball and chain. While I foolishly believed I was a secretly stylish mama in the lingerie department, he apparently began to dread the sight of my admittedly repetitive underwear fashion statement. I have forwarded him the appropriate web site links and hope for some serious contemplation of WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?). I envision my Lenten experiment to be a little uncomfortable for me (I just know too small thongs figure into the equation somehow) and only hope this fulfillment of my wifely duty will help him become a better man.
Faithfully,
C.


