This is a picture of my closet. Actually, it's our closet--two doors, one shared space. I'm sure you Westerners will gasp in horror when you get a look at its size. You see, up here in New England, we don't do the whole my-closet-is-larger-than-my-two-car-garage thing. But we also don't do the whole oh-crap-this-house-is-worth-half-as-much-as-we-paid-for-it-four-years-ago-thing, so I guess it all equals out in the end.
Looking straight on, Jared uses the right side of the closet. See?
Yes, that really is the extent of his wardrobe--three work shirts, a Hawaiian print Red Sox shirt, and a giant red and black plaid flannel (for date nights).
There's no questioning the fact that I'm this man's worst nightmare--he hangs his pajamas. I think it's glaringly obvious that he only married me for the money.