To Shorts, or not to Shorts, that is the Question
"Grown men don't wear shorts." Good thing she wasn't looking at me when she said that, because my eyes went so wide they nearly popped out of their sockets. Admittedly she attributed the statement to his - her husbands - mother, but my impression was that the sentiment was shared not only by her, but by the husband as well and, as i stood there in shorts, it kind of closed a damper over any chance of the conversation progressing much further. You see, we were all standing in line for the Kiwanis pancake breakfast on the 4th of July when the mrs., as she is want to do, began to talk with the folks in line ahead of us. Not content to let the small talk go at the weather, the festivities, or whether maple syrup or some other flavor was the preference, the questions soon became, marginally, more personal - where are you from, what do you do, where'd you go to high school? We already knew they were visiting from out of state and, just as there are only so many teeth ...
