This shirt is my worst enemy. My husband has had it since at least our senior year of college (03-04). Everytime he wears it, I cringe. It's awful and embarassing. And look how worn out it is. It's even got paint splattets. Ugh. And it's definitely not something a father should wear.
So a few weeks ago, I hatched a plan. (cue evil laugh.) I was going to dispose of the shirt. But I had to be very sneaky. If I just threw it away, I knew my husband would have a fit.
Last Sunday, I put it in the wash. I washed and dryed it. And then I put it on the top shelf above the machines.
My husband asked for it twice, and I just told him it was in the laundry room/garage. He never went and actually looked for it so it stayed up on that top shelf.
Last Friday, I took it from the top and "accidentally" dropped it in a dark corner beside the machine. The hubby never asked for it.
It really is a dark corner. The flash just brightened it up. It was in the dark corner until yesterday.
Yesterday as I was doing another load of laundry, I picked it up and put it in my laundry trash. And when I say I put it in the trash, I mean I rolled it up as small as possible, and put it at the very bottom of the trash.
(Yes, that's my laundry trash bag. Yes, it's a wedding gift bag. When I got married 17 months ago, we were blessed with many many presents. So now I use the old wedding gift bags as laundry room trash bags. I'm going green.)
So, now it sits there. Trash day is tomorrow. J usually collects all the trash in the mornings. Cross your fingers that he doesn't start looking for it between now and then. And cross your fingers that he doesn't go peeking through the trash.
I'm giving myself a big pat on the back for getting this far. In 24 hours, that shirt should be history.
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