"The OWBOYS"

I know it's sill but I recently got mad at my husband over a shirt. We both have put on a few pounds since we were married seven years ago and we tease one another about it often. Well he is also a Dallas Cowboys fan. (Don't stop reading my blogs now) The other week Dallas beat the Colts and of course he was elated. Well the next morning he put on one of his Cowboys sweatshirts to wear to work- to boast of course and that's cool. Problem was that it was a little tight. I know he is grown but I had to say something and I tried to be as nice as possible. "You cannot wear that extra medium shirt". He looked in the mirror, then looked at me as if he couldn't see how tight it was. "It's aight," he said. "You are gonna get picked on," I told him. I pulled on the shirt and raised his arms to show him that it was too small. We continued to get ready for work and I thought surely he would look at it again and change it but he didn't. I thought about bumping into him with breakfast, then he would have to change it. He finally got into his car and after a few minutes I expected him to run back in and say, "I gotcha! You know I wasn't gonna wear this tiny shirt". It didn't happen. He did wear that shirt to work. I text him all day about that shirt: Is your breathing okay? Don't eat! The stars will start looking like stripes; Honey who are the OWBOYS? (shirt was so tight that the C was hidden under his arm pit) I don't know why I had such a hard time with it- it was his shirt and his choice. I guess I felt like he was representing us... we are as one.