It’s another Saturday over at the kids’ place while Wendi does her DJ thing. But let me tell you about my morning. I did something I don’t often do: I went shopping for clothes.

Normally I end up buying one or two or three of one particular article of clothing. Say, I’ll pick up a couple of shirts one month, and a few months later a pack of socks. Oh, no, not today. Today’s tally looks like this:

• Two pair of jeans (not both in black, shockingly enough) (and this time I tried them on first)
• Three of one style of T-shirt (in varying colors, thankyouverymuch)
• One really comfy (and thus pricier) additional T-shirt
• One polo-style shirt (again: really comfy)
• One T-shirt with text on the front (I couldn’t resist a shirt that reads: “This product has been approved by people who wear clothes.”)
• A pack containing six pair of black athletic-style socks (because the dress socks just do not last long enough to be worth it)

Excessive? Perhaps. I’m certainly not what anyone would consider to be a clotheshorse, but I do like wearing clean clothes that aren’t in an obvious state of self-destruction. Call me weird if you must. But at least you can’t call me dingy.