I Don't Know How They Every Got The Idea That They Need To Shop For Me

My mother is one of those people who hates to see useful products go to waste. She likes nothing better than going through the possessions of dead people to pick out what she can donate to the poor or new immigrants to Canada. She does this through her church and her position puts her at the choke point for any donations.

As you can imagine I get stuck with helping her sort through the boxes. Often it's a freak show of styles from the Island That Fashion Forgot.

My mother used to be a stylish woman. At some point in the last five years, however, she has lost the ability to tell what looks good on a person and what doesn't.

I have gotten pretty hip to her schemes and am skeptical of any 'gifts' she tries to bestow on me. Today it was a series of beautiful shirts. All of them were made of a thick canvas material and included shiny stitching and fake pearl snap buttons. It was a stampede of tacky cowboy fashions.

I am not a pretty man but I have my limit as to what I will wear in public. Since I won't be riding any wee ponies in the future I figured I can take a fashion risk and resist the Gay Rustler look.

I am getting my beard trimmed up on Thursday. I should dress up in my new duds and give the ladies at the salon a good laugh.