When you marry Johnny Cash

by Katie on October 17, 2011

Friday night, we were invited to a big night out (as in, we hadn’t had a night out like that probably since we left College Station) with several other couples, only 1.5 of which I had met.

After I put the finishing touches on my attire for the evening, I checked with the husband for approval. Most of the time, he hardly even looks at me before just mumbling, “You look fine. Ready now?”

[When he’s questioned on the not-even-looking-at-me before responding, he usually comes up with some sort of cheesy line, like, “You just always look good, so I didn’t even need to look,” when we all know he just doesn’t care because he’s a man. For some reason, I keep asking anyway.]

This time, however, was not the case.

I got the once over, then he said, “Why do you always have to wear black?”

He quickly began backpedaling, and came out with, “I mean, you look great. You really do. You just wear black a lot when we go somewhere.”

“Well, I can find something else. But my backup to this black-printed dress and leggings was a black shirt and jeans,” I said, “But I can look for something that isn’t black. I guess a lot of my nice clothes are just black.”

“No,” he said, “Like I said, you look fine. It’s not you-need-to-change bad. I just…I just…didn’t know I married Johnny Cash is all.”


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