Herb gets a new pair of swim trunks
Greetings from the Ridge.
He stood there in our living room looking for all the world like a drowned Hawaiian water rat. “Whatta you think, Freida?”
When I married Herb he was a scrawny little bit of nothing, but years on the farm had toned him into a satisfactory handful of useful sinew that could stand passable examination, and when he decided to dress up, with my help, he was accepted in most civilized company. Well honey, times change and so do we. Now I only hope to keep his body covered as much as and as often as possible, so when my husband took it upon himself to buy a new pair of swim trunks for our week in the Ozarks I began searching for the phone number to cancel the reservations.