Getting rid of his nasty T-shirt

Let's face it. When a woman checks out a guy across the room, she often thinks, "He's really hot, except for ..."

And it's that "except for," should the two meet, she'll immediately set about trying to change. Every woman wants her man to look his best and, in the process, reflect well on her.

Want proof? Consider Charles, an otherwise hot guy I know with glasses that date back to 1994. I've witnessed at least three girls on different occasions beg him to buy an updated pair, one that doesn't make him look like his high school yearbook photo.

Unfortunately, Charles has responded like many men -- the more the ladies who pass through try to change him, the more he digs in his heels.

"Look at these!" he says, taking off the aging specs. "They're fine. I can still see through them just fine, and they're indestructible."

History seems to prove he's right -- those glasses are on his face after nine years.

Which brings us, as it usually does, to The Other Half.

When I spied him across that Sikeston office those many years ago, my first thoughts were, "Hmmm. Hot guy. Bad haircut. Wearing jeans and T-shirt to work. Can be fixed."

It took a year to worm my way into his heart and get him into my salon. After receiving a decent haircut, he started working out and buying cooler clothes. So I strong-armed him into marrying me, which can be done with shy guys.

My goal was accomplished: married by age 25 to a fit, snappy dresser with a good haircut. (Single ladies, e-mail me if you want to know how naive and dumb this goal actually is.)

Eight years later, I'm seeing a relapse.

The Other Half has stopped wearing ties to work altogether. However, his office attire still far exceeds the quality of the casual attire. Monday night, I returned home to a man wearing a bright orange T-shirt from Fat Mama's Tamales of Natchez, Miss. On the front, the shirt features a cartoon of the world's largest woman sitting on a straining burro. On the back, it screams, "HOME OF THE WORLD FAMOUS KNOCK-YOU-NAKED MARGARITA."

It was his day off, so one can only assume he'd been wearing it all day. In public. At least I wasn't with him.

The same can't be said of the shirt Mr. Half picked to wear to the Cape Girardeau Regional Air Festival earlier this month. It was a Nautica T-shirt purchased in Pensacola six years ago. It wasn't anything spectacular -- gray with blue writing on it that read: "Nautica."

But he absolutely loved it. He wore it once a week or more, depending on how often I did the laundry. As a result, the collar became frayed and worn. Holes of varying sizes developed all over it. The lettering faded.

And that's what he insisted on wearing to the air festival, where we were sure to encounter numerous friends and acquaintances. Fortunately, no one said, "Hey, Heidi! Who's the homeless guy?"

When we got home, I leveled with him. "I never thought you'd become a cliche. A guy who wears a shirt until it's all worn out and nasty, his wife nagging him all the while to throw it out and him refusing. I never figured you for that guy."

And then The Other Half burst into a rare fit of emotion. "YOU DON'T LIKE THIS SHIRT? FINE!!!"

He pulled it over his head and dramatically attempted to tear it in two. He was straining and his face was turning red, but no luck on a second or third try, either. He was forced to grab some nearby scissors and cut it into pieces.

"I loved that shirt," he said, stomping off to watch NASCAR.

The scene wasn't pleasant and may have damaged our marriage, but that piece of clothing is gone forever.

Next up: All those pit-stained undershirts.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.