Jeremiah, last night, lying in bed, apropos of nothing in particular: “I need some more brown socks.”
Me (having just washed a load of darks which included at least five pairs of his socks, several of them brown): “How many pairs do you have?”
Him: “Two.”
Me: “You mean the only two pairs of brown socks you have are the ones with the gold toes that I just washed?” (Thinking: At least one of those has a hole in the toe. And I could swear he also owns other, darker brown socks.)
Him: “Well, I have several pairs of chocolate brown socks.”
Me, bursting into uncontrollable laughter: “Is there a difference?” (Thinking: This is the man who once didn’t bat an eye at wearing brown socks with black trousers and shoes. And can’t you wear chocolate brown socks and brown socks with the same outfits, theoretically?)
Him: “Yes. The difference is important.”
Me, still laughing: “What about those brown striped socks I bought you that you never wear?”
Him: “Well…I don’t really like them.”
Me: “But they’re brown!”
Him: “Yeah…but…”
Me, breaking into laughter again, “You are picky, my love. But I will buy you some more brown socks.”
Ah, wedded bliss. It’s a whole new way of living.
cakes, tea and dreams 
Thanks for buying me new socks tonight honey. The argyle ones are incredibly stylish and the new ones are a perfect blend between brown and chocolate brown.
I love you so much!!!