Redneck Heaven

My sis has always said that Hero Guy was born wishing he were a redneck. He has quite an eclectic taste in music and although he does like classic rock, contemporary Christian and mellow worship music, he's really a country music fan. I think he likes it not so much for the way it sounds, but because there is a costume that is associated with that genre. Although country & western has never been my favorite, Hero Guy has chiseled away at my resistance and tonight we are going to see Little Big Town, a group that I've actually come to enjoy. I was looking forward to the evening until Hero Guy started asking me what I'm going to wear. This was an immediate red flag because he never thinks about his attire unless we are walking out the door and I tell him that neither his C*ville Fire Department T-shirt nor his medic suit are appropriate choices for the holiday party we've been invited to. And he certainly doesn't think about what I'm wearing, especially whether or not we coordinate.

Upon further questioning, my worst fears were realized. He IS wearing his cowboy boots and the rodeo shirt to the concert (the same shirt that he's rescued from the Salvation Army donation bag several times). I've quietly hidden the cowboy hat that he's so proud of, but no doubt he'll make us late tonight when he's hauling out the closet looking for it. The reason he was asking about my clothes is that he was hoping I'd be wearing something to coordinate. Yeah...um...that would be absolutely NOT.

Everyone thinks that I'm married to a good ol' country boy who lives in a log house, volunteers with the local fire department, obsessively hunts with a bow and a firearm and wears that cowboy getup every time a rodeo comes into town. But it's actually just a clever scheme on our part to cover up the sophistication that comes with being a senior avionics engineering manager. You gotta be stealth, ya know?