Cas already *is* one of those poor spouses who sits at the table staring into space while his husband goes on and on and on (and on some more) about his car. And yes, the sweaters are metaphors for the armor of God, but they're a bit easier to pack when they're knitwear. When the time comes, they'll convert to God's mithril, and everyone will be happy.

Except for that little bastard Raphael, because Cas wearing God's armor is pretty much a big fuck you to the little cocksucker.