I have known Primo for less than two years. That is, I have known Primo for a lot less time than Sly and Doris have. (Not that Sly was involved in the gift selection. That is Women’s Work.)
In that time, I have learned
· Primo does not wear brown.
· He does not wear Hawaiian shirts.
“But I never wear anything like this!” he says. “Doesn’t she even look? Doesn’t she see what I wear when I visit? I have never in my life worn a shirt like this.”
Blue. He wears blue. The man has close to 100 blue shirts. I counted all the blue shirts in his closet. Blueblueblue. Blue is what he wears. No brown. Not one single brown shirt.
I was looking at a coffee-table travel book with Henry, our friends’ little boy. He saw a photo of a man wearing a blue shirt on a camel.
Me: Who’s that?
Henry: I think it’s Uncle Primo!
Me: No. I don’t think Primo has ever been on a camel.
Henry: But – he’s wearing a blue shirt!