She does. One afternoon I was working in the front garden when she sauntered out of the house wearing my new jeans and a new sweatshirt of mine. She was in the car and away before I could say anything. Later I told her I`d use her clothes except they`re too big. Next morning I went to my underwear drawer and she`d sewn up the sides of an old pair of her own pants and left them for me. They`ve got all the answers, so I now try to hide my new clothes, unsuccessfully. Why do I always get a headache thinking about her?