Today, I wore the white shirt. As it turned out, I wore it to Sweet Baby Ray's for a dinner of BBQ beef brisket while solo-wrangling Katie across a meal for the first time. The ancient Greeks would have called wearing a white shirt under these circumstances hubris, if the ancient Greeks had had BBQ beef brisket. As it turned out, the shirt made it out unstained. And the hostess at the restaurant made a very nice Get Well card for daisy_knotwise that I delivered when Katie and I visited her in the hospital a few minutes later.
On Monday, though, I deliberately wore the blue shirt, because I've seen enough episodes of ER to know that the guy wearing the white shirt will be the one whose wife unexpectedly bleeds out in surgery.
Some things you just don't mess with.