Speaking of T-shirts...

This morning, Mr. Abby is wandering around in one I bought him half-in-jest a few years ago.

It's an awful turquoise blue and says in big white lettters across the front, "Feminist Chicks Dig Me."

I don't self-identify as a feminist (or much of anything else, for that matter), but the poor guy definitely didn't marry what would probably be considered a conventional woman.

Mostly, though, it's just fun to watch people take a second look on the rare occasion he wears it in public. Mr. Abby doesn't look like the sort of who feminist chicks would dig, it seems.