Life in the Suburbs
Sean and I set out on our nightly walk last evening, happy to be able to enjoy a bit of the brisk pre-autumn air. In order to get out there before daylight had completely escaped, we had put dinner off a bit and were contentedly munching fruit to stave off starvation.
It was the perfect temperature out--cool but not too cool. I love those nights--the ones where you can still wear shorts but need long sleeves. I couldn't find one of my own long-sleeved shirts, though; so I had happily grabbed one of Sean's and thrown it on over my tee.
We were about a block away from the house when I looked at Sean and stopped short. "Oh. My. God."
Sean shot me a look of confusion. "What? What's up?"
"Look at us. Just look at us," I gestured at our respective outfits.
Sean did, realization slowly dawning on him. "Oh, GOD," he snorted.
You see, we had somehow managed to each put on the same outfit, more or less. Navy blue meshy shorts with stripes down the side. White ankle socks. New Balance shoes. Pinky-purply-reddish shirts. And as if that weren't enough, we were both eating the fruit, too. Gah. It was terrible, really. Much too J. Crew for words.
Shrugging his shoulders, Sean resumed walking. "Welcome to the suburbs, honey," he laughed.