I Mean, It's Been More Than Five Years Now

Oh, Brian.  This jet navy and tangerine striped tie.  I am so conflicted about it.  I laud it, then I loathe it, then it barely blips my radar.  Brian, this tie is the socks on the floor of our marriage.  Early on, when the blush of Marriage is new, the wife smiles and shakes her head, picks up the husband's socks, and thinks, "Oh! Here I am, doing A Wife Thing already! Picking up after my Husband!" She's a little excited, maybe even calls a married friend or her mom to commiserate.  But after a few years of marriage and picking up smelly sweatsocks, it's not so novel, not so cute.  She thinks, "I'm not his mother or his maid!  How many times is he going to leave these damned socks on the floor?  I've had it!"  Finally, when she sees he isn't going to change, that he's going to leave his socks on the floor no matter what, that picking them up has become part of her normal routine anymore and simply not worth it, she barely notices them in the docket of Things She Does Every Day.  Which reminds me, Brian.  You missed Our Anniversary.  Again.