My history professor for this semester is a dead ringer for George Costanza. A spitting image... from far away. I'm two weeks into the spring semester and I've already seen him on campus and thought, at first, "Oh look, George Costanza!"

Then again, I've already had "Oh look, Snoop Dogg!" and "Oh look! Dave Chapelle with a mustache disguise!" moments at college this year, so it's not surprising.

George Costanza

Anyway, this morning in history class, I happened to notice that my professor's shoes were practically falling apart. They were nice men's dress shoes... at some point.

His black button-down was missing a button, and half tucked in, and his belt was tucked into itself as though it didn't quite reach the belt loop, and his back pocket was inside out.

At first, I thought, "Geez, mister, get it together!"

But I also knew, immediately, that there was no woman telling him how to dress and stopping him before he left the house. I'd never let MY man go to work like that.

As I predicted, he did not have a wedding ring on his finger.

Now, I'm not saying all unmarried men are incapable of taking care of themselves. Or that there is no excuse to dress like that. He's a nice guy, after all. He can dress however he likes.

But I know a bachelor when I see one, and I'm always going to make sure my guy looks cute and tidy. Even if he insists on wearing a sword at our wedding. [ No, honey! ]