This shivery, January day, I contemplate a profound subject: long underwear.
My interest is personal. I prefer that my husband not freeze into a hiker-sicle.
While sane people stay by the fire during inclement weather, he’s addicted to five-mile winter walks. (And you thought Zoom had messed with my brain.) No antiquated long johns for him. He wants “base layers.”
At first, I feared he’d fallen prey to some paint-your-body trend. Then, I realized Hubby was carefully editing facts and figures to promote a new, improved version of long johns. Their wickability — whatever that was. He expected me to rubber-stamp his purchases.
Though even if I accidentally (ahem!) lost my rubber stamp, he would buy them.
I registered a protest. “John Sullivan never blew big bucks on base layers.”
“Who’s John Sullivan?” His eyes narrowed. “How do you know about his long underwear?”
“He was a boxer who made long johns popular during the 1800s. Wore leggings into the ring.”
“With that heavy cotton, he probably sweat gallons.” Hubby brightened. “Which is why I want base layers —”
“When I was walking miles at college in freezing rain,” I retorted, “I wore long johns Mom sent. Plain, cheap long johns. Why do you need something expensive?” I pointed at his laptop screen. “Those don’t look like they could keep somebody warm in Florida.”
Patiently, he explained that a modern winter base layer consists of a thin, but warm shirt and leggings of special fabrics that maintain body temperature. Yet, they prevent a hiker’s sweating too much, dangerous during extreme weather.
He made his case sound infinitely reasonable. As reasonable as a hike in single-digit weather can be.
Until he insisted he needed wool T-shirts for summer hikes.
“Wool?” My rubber stamp vanished into a black hole.
“Merino wool’s a main component of Smartwool®.”
Smartwool® in July didn’t sound smart to me. Besides, I distrust the label “smart.” We already purchase smartphones, smart cars and smart watches. Now we have to buy smart underwear?
He insisted, “Smartwool enhances the layering system.”
A system? “Does it require Wi-fi?” I said. “Or maybe it meshes with satellites. They’re tracking people’s long underwear from outer space now?”
Despite my objections, I knew he’d never buy long johns. I couldn’t permit my husband to freeze to death. Because base layers were on sale, I found my rubber stamp and approved his purchases, making him very happy.
Plus — (gasp!) this is hard to say — Hubby (choke!) proved to be r-r-right. The base layers have kept him toasty and safe.
Sorry, John Sullivan.
When it comes to long johns, you and I were way off base.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Has your spouse proved r-r-right lately?f
