This was especially true if he wore a notched collar instead of the "dog collar" typically worn by Protestant clergy which, in my rarely humble opinion, is a terrific look. I tried one on once and looked totally fabulous, especially because it hid a generous expanse of my aging neck.
But enough about me and back to me.
"So, hon, how was Christendom today?"
[Insert sound of collar being removed with a deep sigh of faith-filled surrender.]
Eventually the collar -- on him -- became normative. I no longer found myself exclaiming, "Whoa! Is it Halloween?" whenever he dressed for work. At some point I might stop making snarky comments about the "party dress" when he's decked out in canon garb. (FYI Catholics: canon = msgr.)
I hadn't realized just now normative clericals had become until my husband recently came home from a so-called normal day at the diocesan center wearing a shirt and tie.
"What the . . . does your bishop know?!?"
"Oh yes. He even said 'nice tie.'"Thought but not uttered, "Now is it Halloween?!?"