It takes a special kind of man to be married to a woman who shops at fabric stores, but it’s not like I begrudge my husband his Home Depot. My husband insists that “The Spirit of Sleep” overtakes him as he steps foot inside a fabric store. As soon as opens his mouth to protest, a yawn assails him mid-word. It’s quite amazing how he can do an exact repeat performance every time.

Thankfully, in the town we moved to five years ago, the fabric store is right next to the home improvement store. So, it’s been several years since I’ve had to subject him to regular stops. Usually, he just drops me off, and I do my thing. You have to make concessions in a marriage, and I’ve learned not to take along my husband on these kind of things. He just doesn’t appreciate a good-quality Waverly decorator fabric in the same way that I don’t value a clear, true, S4S piece of oak. We’re even, I guess you could say.

I remember the day that I really ruined it for myself. We were on vacation in New Jersey somewhere when I spotted a clearance sale at a craft store. I begged him to pull in with promises of “I won’t be long” and “I’ll make this up to you.” The place was a mad house, with people grabbing, shopping, and acting like the consumer gluttons that I rail about so often. In the spirit of divide and conquer, I pointed to some sparkly, twirly sticks on display and asked my husband if he could find me some of that in red.

Now, my husband is a guy, and so that means that he doesn’t ask for directions. But he did this particular day because he was so out of his element. You know, like a bull in a china shop or an NEA member at a homeschool meeting. This was, I believe, the first and last time he’s ever asked for directions.

An associate calls across the store, “Yeah, there’s a guy here looking for TING-TING.”

I realized at that moment that there is no sale good enough at which you should emasculate your man. My husband can brush our girls’ hair and put cosmetics in his grocery cart, but he draws the line at ting ting. I’m so in-love.

So, if you see me alone at the fabric store, you now know why. My husband buys tools and timber, and I buy thread and thimbles. We shop separately now. It’s not because our marriage is in trouble, but because we want to keep our marriage from it. It’s one way I respect my husband—or at the least, keep him awake. How about you?