If you follow me on instagram, you may have seen that I had to suit up for oral arguments on Wednesday night – the final and most dreaded of the Moot Court requirements.
It was the first time since quitting my job that I wore a suit (and probably the sixth or seventh time since quitting that I wore something with a real waistband) and let me tell you – I don’t miss it.
Anywho, yesterday I wrote a huge long post about how my argument actually went really well, how the professor told me I have a talent for oral advocacy, how those words alone put me back on track to being a trial attorney, and how the whole experience reiterated that you should never give up on your dreams without trying to make them happen first.
It was sort of a doozy, to be honest. So it’s a good thing Jake accosted me at 11 pm as I was making final edits to the post and convinced me that it was absolutely pertinent that I order him some new swim trunks right then and there.
In case you were wondering, Jake can be very assertive about the whats, whens, and hows once he’s set his mind to something, and there’s no exception when it comes to his swim trunks.
This story really starts a few years ago, when he decided that he wanted “those swim trunks with the rainbow-arch thingy on the butt.” I pressed him for a brand name at the time but he had no idea. He just kept telling me that I knew exactly what he was talking about, so why didn’t I know what they were called? (To be clear, I had no clue what he was talking about.)
We spent a few unsuccessful months looking for them on the internet and in stores before I tried to convince him to buy something else, because by that point he really, really needed trunks.
And of course he just said no, I don’t want any old swim trunks; I want the trunks with the rainbow on the butt.
At one point my stubborn-ass husband got in a hot tub in Lake Tahoe wearing only his boxer briefs. (Yes, there were other people in the tub at the time, and yes, it was exceedingly obvious to everyone that he was in his underwear).
You’ll just have to believe me when I say it was totally inappropriate.
About a year later we finally (thank you Jesus) found his rainbow-butt trunks at a shop in Miami — the brand is Sundek — but as soon as he laid his eyes on them, he began second-guessing himself: they’re expensive; I don’t know about these patterns; the zipper fly is weird; are you sure they aren’t too Euro?
And I was like YOU WILL BUY THESE MOTHERFUCKING SWIM TRUNKS RIGHT NOW. And then we ended up spending two hours of perfectly good tanning time in a claustrophobic fitting room trying to decide if he should get the medium length or the short length.
In the end we settled on the medium.
So last night I almost lost my shit when we went online to the Sundek website and Jake started insisting that he wears the short length.
Guys, I’ll gladly admit to being wrong about stuff all the time. But Jake telling me that I was wrong about the length of his swim trunks after he subjected me to hot tub nudity, months of hunting, and a two hour debate about the pros and cons of an extra inch of inseam? NO SIR. Not at 11 pm at night, not ever.
Nevertheless, it took him busting out the industrial tape measure and verifying the length for himself to accept that he did, in fact, require the medium.
And then he insisted that I order several pairs of each length, just to be sure.
Does this sound familiar to anyone else? Or am I just really lucky?
I probably should have stuck with the “chase your dreams” essay, but the truth is that nothing gets my dramatic juices flowing quite like marriage does – there’s just so much material to work with, even if it doesn’t provide much in the way of meaningful content.
Oh well. Thanks anyway, Jake!
Happy Friday everyone — have a great weekend!