It seems a rumor has been going about that I wear pink shirts, and not only that but matching pink shirts with my spouse. I have endured some ribbing on the matter and, granted, on the face of it, it would be a criminally cutesy offence, one I may not forgive myself if I witnessed it out in the wilds of Utah (and I have, at that).
But, let me assure the public that, if this event did occur, there would have been multiple extenuating circumstances that any kindhearted judge of my character should take into consideration:
1. The incident in question was an isolated incident, and one born from the confusion that comes when one’s spouse, mother, and cruise director team up in such a perfect storm. Simply, I was only following orders.
2. Due to the fact that we did not even own a pink shirt, a truth that may speak in my defense, we had to buy the shirts for the cruise. Thus, at the first pink shirts we found, we simply bought two. So what appear to be matching outfits are actually the product of manly shopping efficiency.
3. The pink shirts in question were purchased at Costco. ‘Nuff said.
4. Finally, not long after wearing them for the first time, both Alan’s and my pink shirt were ruined in a finger-painting accident (or maybe “accident”; you can’t prove anything).
Given the above, any just and compassionate human being could see the matching-pink-shirt incident was 100% innocent, and an anomaly of chance that will not happen again. I apologize to anyone who I’ve inadvertently harmed by such a display of grotesque cutesy apparel, and remain hopeful I'll have your vote in 2008.