Don't give me any SAS!

I am learning SAS at work. SAS is a programming language used to produce statistical information/reports. "SAS" doesn't stand for anything; it's just SAS.

I am enjoying this educational challenge but there's a lot to learn and each section builds upon the last. You have to be in a learning frame of mind or you'll get lost.

It just so happens I'm NOT in a learning frame of mind this morning and after I read the following snippet 10 times, I felt an overwhelming urge to stop "learning" and blog.

Tell me this won't drive you to drink:

Specifying SELECT Statements without Expressions

If you don't specify a select-expression, SAS evaluates each when-expression to produce a result of true or false.

If the result is true, SAS executes the statement in the WHEN statement.

If the result is false, SAS proceeds either to the next when-expression in the current WHEN statement, or to the next WHEN statement if no more expressions are present, or to the OTHERWISE statement if one is present. (That is, SAS performs the action that is indicated in the first true WHEN statement.)

If more than one WHEN statement has a true when-expression, only the first WHEN statement is used; once a when-expression is true, no other when-expressions are evaluated.

It's only 9:30 a.m. I have a long day ahead of me.

A view on I-10

Yesterday as I was traveling down I-10, I saw something I know I'll never see again.... a classic car from the 1950s towing a helicopter.

That's right. A helicopter.

Who ever heard of a car towing a helicopter???

Even if I had had my camera with me I would have never got that shot. I was doing 65 and the car was going in the opposite direction. So I searched the internet and I made this combined photo to approximate what I saw (sans the snow of course). The car was blue and white and the helicopter was much smaller and facing the other direction.

Ironically, the helicopter photo originally included the vehicle that was towing it..... a small Datsun-type station wagon.

Oh well. I guess it's not that uncommon after all.

Brace face

Tinsel teeth.

Metal mouth.

Jessie got braces last Tuesday. I remember when I had them. I was so excited at first, but it sucked actually.

Braces are different in this day and time. The wire is Titanium and the brackets come in tons of colors. Neater still, she can change her bracket color each time she has an appointment if she wants.

BEFORE













AFTER

The pancake conversation

The following is an actual conversation I had with Jason last night. He was hungry but didn't want what I made for dinner. He wanted me to cook him something.

Jason: Mommy I'm hungry.

Me: Well eat then.

Jason: There's nothing to eat.

Me: I made chicken pot pie.

Jason: I don't want that. It's disgusting; it has mushrooms.

Me: Well pick them out. There's not that many.

Jason: NO!! I'm not gonna eat that.

Me: Okay, then you're on your own. I'm not cooking anything else.

Jason: Mommy, I'm hungry, Mommy, I'm hungry, Mommy I'm hungry.... [this goes on for a bit. I ignore.]

Jason: What can I have? There's nothing to eat.

Me: Have a grilled cheese.

Jason: NO!

Me: Have a bowl of cereal or oatmeal.

Jason: NO!

Me: Have Ramen noodles then.

Jason: We don't have any more.

Me: Well then you're on your own.

Jason: I want pancakes.

Me: Okay, go for it.

[he goes into kitchen and I hear scuffling]

Jason: [yelling from kitchen] What do I do first?

Me: [yelling from living room] Read the instructions.

[silence]

Jason: How much do I make?

Me: How much do you want to make?

Jason: I only want one pancake.

Me: Well I don't know how to do that. Have something else.

[time goes by]

Jason: [in a very loud panicky voice] Where is the 3/4 cup?

Me: In the 2nd drawer.

Jason: What do I put it in?... I think I need the green bowl. [pause] It's dirty; it has Ramen noodles stuck to it.

Me: Well wash it then.

Jason: NO!

Jason: What else can I put it in?

Me: Use the Pyrex measuring cup.

Jason: NO! It has Ramen noodles stuck to it.

[pause]

Me: [sigh] Well why don't you just get all the dirty dishes together and have Ramen noodles?

[snicker]

Jason: Can I use this? [holds up a small Pyrex rectangular baking dish like you would make meatloaf in.]

Me: Sure.

[Jason comes in living room and sits down on couch, stirring the pancake batter in the Pyrex meatloaf dish.]

Jason: What temperature do I preheat the oven to?

Me: snicker.

[Jason dips a giant wad of batter onto his finger and shoves it into his mouth.]

Jason: This is disgusting!!

Me: [serious laughing] You retard!

[Jason goes back in kitchen. I hear cooking noises.]

Jason: Mommy, guess what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow?

Me: What?

Jason: Pancakes.

Me: That's nice.

Jason: Mommy, how do I know when to flip it?

Me: There will be bubbles.

Jason: What if there aren't any bubbles?

Me: Just give it time. [I begin to think about what is going on but refuse to go in there. That is exactly what he wants me to do.]

Me: What are you cooking it in?

Jason: Oil.

Me: No I mean what pan?

Jason: The pan I use to make grilled cheese.

Me: Cringing. [That pan is a griddle pan with ridges.]

I AM NOT GOING IN THERE.... I AM NOT GOING IN THERE!

[silence]

Jason: Was I supposed to preheat the oven to 400?

[more cooking noises.]

Finally, Jason comes into living room with a beautiful stack of three pancakes, complete with syrup, and shoves it in my face.

We are both grinning.

I knew he could do it.

Truckalicious

I see all kinds of weird things when going to or from Dale's house. Wanna buy a truck?

Double talk

Remember this picture of Jason multitasking?

When I knocked on Jessica's door because she had a phone call, she answered the door in mid-conversation on her cell phone.

I told her the phone was for "her" and handed her the phone fully expecting her to put her cell phone down. Instead, she put it up to her other ear and began talking as she walked back to where she was sitting.

A phone on each ear.

I stared for a moment as I closed the door. As I walked away, I thought about that picture of Jason.

Then I ran to get the camera. I went back into her room and took this pic.

Paul

Paul Newman died yesterday.

I didn't find out until mid-day today.

He was a fantastic actor, director, and businessman.

He was an icon. Nothing like current times.

I am sad.

Flower hour... power

Daily I see plants go in and out of bloom in my yard. Red, pink, purple, yellow, white, big, small, weird.

It has been this way since I moved in.

I am not plant-savvy at all, but I do know that I have several azalea bushes and a crepe myrtle though.

My plant-savvy mom, however, knows every type of plant in my yard and has told me all their names at least once, but I can't remember them.

Here are some pics I took today:
Flower box. Mom planted these flowers the weekend I went camping with Dale at Ginnie Springs. I still haven't written about it; sorry.





This is in the backyard in the courtyard area.



















Little white flowers. Okay, I know it's blurry, but I can't get my digital camera to act like a real one.




This is in the front yard. I have no clue what it is.










Another flower in the front yard.

I wish the camera picked up the depth of color that is really there.

Pics

Okay, so apparently I can upload pictures now!!

Here is that pic of Jason I took after his first driving lesson.

I love his expression. It's an expression I don't get to see very often.



Here are some more I have been meaning to share.

This one was taken at a metal recycling plant that I pass now and then going to/from Dale's place. I thought it was neat that there was so much twisted confusion going on around a vertically stationary speed limit sign. I'm sure you already got that though. :)


This is what my babies do when they are not being watched. They know they are not allowed on the counter or the chair seat....













This is a pic from a recent camping trip to Gennie Springs. I meant to post about it when I went at the end of July. But it hasn't happened yet. Tune in... :)







This is from a fireworks display at DecemberFest last year. It came out pretty good, even though I was hiding behind a bush due to the fact that the fireworks were extremely close to me at the time!!





I pass these trucks on my way home from work. They look like mommy and baby trucks to me.

Cell U Lar

Lately Jessie has been bugging me to add texting to our cell phone plan. Texting, for those who don't know, is the equivalent of emailing, only it's from your cell phone.

"It's only $15 a month for unlimited texting," she repeatedly reminds me.

Texting is all the rage right now. All her friends do it. Apparently, they don't use their cell phones to talk anymore.

She bugged me incessently for a cell phone last year so she could talk to her friends. And I finally caved and bought her and Jason one because it made sense to me. I got a family plan and it's been a good thing actually.

But I refuse to pay for unlimited texting on a CELL phone. That is what email and instant messaging are for. I mean what's the point of having a cell phone if you don't talk on it????

And yet she still bugs me.

Today she started up again. Nothing I said seemed to satisfy her.

Jessica: Why can't I get texting? It's only $15 a month!

Me: I explain why.

Jessica: But how come?? All my friends have texting..... they don't talk on the phone anymore. If I had texting I could talk to my friends during the day instead of waiting to talk to them after 7pm.

Me: You don't need to be talking or texting anyone during the day when you are at school.

Jessica: But if you just get rid of the home phone we could afford it.

Me: I don't want to get rid of the home phone and, besides, if I did we wouldn't have internet anymore.

Jessica: Moment of understanding occurs, but fades quickly as she realizes that I am making sense.

But mom, it's only $15 a month and besides the phone I want to buy with my birthday money is for texting.

Me: Well buy a cheaper phone then.

This goes on for a while until finally she had had enough.

"THERE'S NO POINT IN HAVING A CELL PHONE IF YOU CAN'T TALK ON IT!!!!!"

What could I say? I just started laughing.

Thoughts of pink

School starts tomorrow and, in true fashion, I waited until today to take Jessie shopping for school clothing. Her wardrobe consists of short shorts, mini skirts, tight-fitting shirts, tanks with thin straps, and pants with the knees ripped out.

She is starting a school that has a rather strict dress code. No shorts or skirts shorter than six inches above the knee when kneeling on a table (and believe me they measure!), no spaghetti strap tanks, and no pants with rips. Don't get me started on the boys' restrictions. I remember them well from when Jason began his sixth grade year.

Oh well, the point is that she has nothing that meets this criteria, which is mainly because her friends don't dress that way, which is mainly because the stores don't sell clothing that meets this criteria. Shorts are mini, skirts are mini, tanks straps are mini, and some jeans have rips. Okay, she ripped out the knees of her jeans, but that IS in style now.

We went to Target and found some items. Not much though. She began gravitating toward shirts. I explained that she needed bottoms, not tops. We ended up with a pair of Bermuda shorts that were brown and pink, a brown polo, and a pink polo. Okay, I know I'm a sucker.

Next we went to Walmart. They had nothing at first glance. The girls department looked like it had been wiped out by some plague. Surely there had to be something suitable; something that met the dress code criteria.... but all the shorts were too short, all the skirts were too short, and all the tanks had thin straps that were too thin.

The items I did happen to find that met the criteria were all pink for some strange reason. I suggested a camouflage pair of Capris that were pink.

Nope.

I suggested a solid pair of Capris that were light pink.

Nope.

"Nothing pink, Mom! I'll tell you when I find something I like."

Enough said. I shut my mouth. I followed her around and reminded her of her size, when she found items that were way too small or large. She soon found a brand of jeans that she liked., and there were a variety of shades (styles) so she picked three different pairs and tried them on. They all fit.

Then we went to look for tennis shoes. The very first pair she spotted she loved. They were black and pink. Really cute. We found her size and tossed them into the buggy.

As they settled into the buggy, I couldn't help but notice that there was pink in the shoe. Come to think of it, previously she had tossed in a lunchbox that was pink and convinced me she needed it because her old one had broken. And come to think of it, she wants her bedroom walls to be painted pink.

Yet, she didn't like any of the pink items I suggested.

Soleful reflection

Once upon a time when I was in my earliest 20s, I had this pair of shoes.

They were black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a bow on top. They were beautiful and went with everything... I wore them a lot. I dressed for work back then; back when I had the energy to wear panty hose.

Fast forward 20-something years to about five years ago.

I was in Goodwill on my lunch break, perusing the merchandise, scoffing at the overpriced items.....overpriced used items, mind you....and I happened across a pair of black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a black bow on top.

OMG, I thought. These are the exact same shoes I used to have that I loved. I immediately looked at the size. They were a size 6. I usually wear a 6.5 wide or a 7 regular so I could handle a 6 I thought. I took off my tennis shoes and crammed the right shoe onto my socked foot.

It fit!!!

Well it fit because I made it fit; but it fit regardless, so I bought them and immediately threw them in my closet for a few days before I actually wore them to work.

The first day I wore them to work, I was so proud. I felt young again. I was the me of my earliest 20s. And they fit just right with knee-highs. I was hot.

Just after I got to work, however, I noticed that part of the shoe, the patent part, had creased from the movement of walking and had flaked off leaving a white crooked line on the shoe. I tried to fix it by putting scotch tape over the crease, but I put the tape on crooked. I pulled the tape back up, because I can't have a crooked piece of tape on my shoe, and when the tape came off so did the patent black.

Crap.

I grabbed a black sharpie, an old trick of mine, and colored the white jagged line until it was invisible.

There.

An hour or so went by. I was walking down the hallway to my office and the sole of my right shoe began to come off. It's a feeling I cannot describe.

Crap.

My boss suggested that I use Spray Mount to adhere the sole to the shoe again. I found the spray and went outside.

It worked. The sole stuck and all was good. But my elated feeling was slowly deflating. After all, I had a glued on sole and now there were a thousand more creases in the black patent.

When my friend and coworker Alice came around for tea (that is my morning break), we headed for the kitchen and I began telling her about what had happened with my shoes... how they were the epitome of my youth; how they made me feel young again... how they had cracked and how the sole had come undone only to get reglued... how I had overcome all that and was still positive.

Just before we approached the kitchen door, my left sole came off. I am not kidding you. It came off exactly after I had told her about the right sole coming off.

It came off right on cue. I had to be on some comedy show.

We looked at each other and then cracked up.

My beautiful black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a bow on top shoes that represented my youth were dry rotted! There was no use trying to glue on the left sole, even though I tried and I tried, believe me.

I learned a valuable lesson from that experience. I knew my youth wasn't dead just because those shoes were dead... I know my age but I don't feel it. That experience taught me that you should never try to go back in time. You should appreciate the past, and learn from it, but you should always push forward.

Alphabet

Okay, I'm a blogger, but not an "official" blogger because, as my son reminds me frequently, I only have two readers.

My cousin Sayre (a/k/a Sarah) is a true blogger. She writes faithfully, participates in activities with other bloggers, and has even won awards for her blog. And she does all that despite having to raise a son, raise a husband, and raise a career.

She is my hero. My blogger hero, among other things.

There have been many times I wanted to respond to my cousin's "Fun Monday" challenges but I didn't. I couldn't, because I am sporadic when it comes to blogging... as you well know. I am not dependable.

But Sayre (a/k/a Sarah) has "Alphabet Tagged" me, and I have never been tagged. I must respond.

So here is my Alphabet Tag:


Attached or single? Reattached.

Best friend? My cousin Sayre (a/k/a Sarah). I don't really have any friends. Technically she is not a "friend", she is family... but she is my best friend because she is hears me. She listens to me. She makes me remember who I am.


Cake or Pie? Cake. Chocolate cake.

Day of Choice? Friday. Friday represents the end of the week and the end of the crap and craziness that is my week.

Essential Item? scissors.


Favorite color? orange.

Gummy bears or worms? I would rather eat a bear than a worm.... the bears are smaller.

Hometown? Tallahassee.

Indulgence? Steak.

January or July? Both. January because I love winter over summer. July because it's the month I met Dale.

Kids? No thank you. I have enough.

Life isn't complete.... without a cat. {lmks to scrss: so true}

Marriage Date? First time: March 16, 1990, second time: 12th of never.

Number of Brothers and Sisters? 1 sister.


Oranges or Apples? Oranges... but not orange juice.

Phobias? Heights.

Quote? One of my own: "It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Reasons to Smile? Being true to myself on a daily basis; watching my children learn that they do not know more than me; and in contradiction, watching my children realize they have taught me something.


Season of Choice? Fall.

Tag Seven People? Okay, I only know 2 people who blog.... 1) the person who tagged me, and 2) my cousin Cathy. Hey Cathy, are you out there?

Unknown Fact? I saw Ted Turner and Jane Fonda at Hooters on Christmas Day. {Okay, it's not "unknown;" actually, I called everybody I could think of at the time.}

Vegetable? This is too hard. I can't just pick one. I'll pick three: yellow squash, Lima beans, potatoes.

Worst habits? Biting nails, trying to control the lives of everyone around me.

XRay or Ultrasound? Ultrasound.

Your favorite food? Cheese.

Zodiac sign? Pisces. I am fish.

Driving 101

Jason had his first driving lesson yesterday.

I was occupied with laundry and peeling wallpaper, and somehow we go onto the subject of checking accounts.

So he passed the quiz that my credit union requires of teens to get a checking account ....and he got psyched. And, hey, since he was all "psyched" about getting his own checking account, I asked him if he wanted to have his first driving lesson.

I fully expected him to reply "no," being as that was his reply the other 4,000 times I had asked him that question since receiving his license.

But instead he replied "yes." Dang... now I would actually have to teach him to drive. I have been excited for him since he got his license, but at the same time, I have been very nervous about teaching him on a manual transmission.

So, here I was. Son in driver's seat. Me in passenger seat. The first thing he asked was "Why is the seatbelt on the wrong side?"

We got down to business. I had the "simple" task of teaching him to let off the clutch at the same time he pushed the gas pedal.

It is SO hard to teach something that is natural to me; that I don't think about. He did very well with it all though... he only flooded the car a few times and he only conked out a few hundred times. It was all good.

After about an hour, he had had enough of his lesson so I got behind the wheel and headed back home. I described to him how it felt when I had my feet in motion.... and he wanted another try. This time he did it almost perfectly! It clicked with him. He finally understood what I had been trying to say, and asked me why I hadn't just done that to begin with.

We pulled in the driveway. He was grinning. I was grinning and so proud of him. Proud of him for continuing without giving up, even though I know he was frustrated many times.

I gave him a hug and told him to get in the car because I wanted to take a picture of him behind the wheel. Before we began the lesson, I had stashed the camera in my purse thinking I would get an "action shot" of him driving.... but my purse ended up in the back seat and unavailable. And just as well. I don't think it would have been a cool "mom" move to whip out a camera while he was in the throes of clutching!

At least he allowed me to photograph him at the end. I can't get the photo to upload so you'll have to imagine it!

Arachnophobia?

I had a visitor with me on my trek to work and back today. A banana spider. At least I think it was a banana spider. It's some kind of large spider... and I don't like large spiders.

My yard has several of them right now. They build their webs everywhere, which I am not pleased about, but as long as they stay out of my way, I don't mess with them.

Jessica displaced one the other day. He had set up his home near the carport about a month before. I noticed that he wasn't in his web one day and wondered what happened to him.

Well, he went directly across the carport and built a web over the wicker couch swing. However, he was displaced from there toot-sweet because Jessie uses that swing a lot. He then proceeded to build his web on the other side of the carport next to my car. Well that was an unacceptable location so I gently moved him from there into the bushes.

This morning as I was traveling on I-10, doing 65, I happened to look in my rear view mirror and noticed a banana spider barely hanging on to the top of my back window. The only thing holding him on from what I could tell was some spider web. He was flapping in the breeze and I was amazed he had held on so long.

The next time I looked in my rear view mirror, he was gone. I figured he blew away. After all it's hard to hold on when you are in 65mph winds.

I went to work. Parked. Went to lunch. Parked. Left work. Went to Publix.

On the way to my car with my purchase, I was walking next to a couple who were just slightly ahead of me. As I approached my car, the woman began walking toward my car with a look of fascination. I was wondering what exactly she was doing looking at my car.

I soon saw what she had spied. It was the banana spider on the back of my car... and I mean the side back. Right near the key hole to open the trunk. He was so completely still that I wasn't even sure if he was alive. By the way, it's hard to tell in the picture, but that spider is about 3 inches long from leg tips.



I was amazed that this spider was still around and I told the woman my story about being on I-10. She left and then came back with her husband. Then another couple showed up to look at it.

Seeing the spider actually made an impression on them. One guy started talking animatedly about a "pet" spider he once had, and we all listened and commented. It was really neat to see strangers come together to discuss something as odd as the spider on my car like that.

I left Publix and drove home. I thought surely he would have blown off, but he didn't. I gently removed him from my car and placed him in some bushes FAR away from my car.

Jessica thinks this spider is a stalker.

I am curious to see where he will settle this time.

On another note. Jessica made very good progress with the wallpaper removal. Take a look at the current status:

To Do or Not to Do

It was bound to happen.

I bought this place and it is covered in wallpaper that is not me.

It's Victorian, actually. Not bad mind you; but not me.

So what that means is that I will have to remove the wallpaper from the ENTIRE house at some point, and proceed from there.

I intend to do that, only there is the "keeping the house clean" problem to deal with daily, as well as the "keeping the yard maintained" problem that seems to be daily, being that it is summer and we've had a LOT of rain.

Speaking of summer, my lovely daughter has been complaining about how bored she is.

I bought her puzzles when she showed an interest. I let her run around in the creeks of Indian Head Acres so she could hang out with her friends, even though I was apprehensive about it. Okay, I used to live there when I was a child and I know what I did when I lived there and OMG not my child!!)...and I allowed her to go to sleep overs. But, still, she is bored.

I digress.

This afternoon, as we were preparing to go to daddy's house, I noticed a piece of wallpaper border coming unglued in the dining room. It was installed just above the chair rail. I had actually seen the peeling wallpaper before but ignored it because fixing it was way too far down on my "to do" list to worry about.

I pulled it.

I pulled it and Jessie saw me!! She immediately went into "wallpaper removal" mode. If you don't know what I am talking about, then back up in the archives a couple years. You will see.

She got so into it... I got into it. It was hard to get her to stop, but we had to leave. She professed that pulling wallpaper would be the greatest part of her summer vacation and vowed to begin first thing tomorrow. God help me.

Here is the damage:



You know, of course, that this means I have to deal with the dining room now.

Just another "to do" for my list.

The Jess

Recent pics of the daughter...



Tell me she doesn't look like LAURIE!!!

Okay, a dark-haired Laurie, but come on... the lips on the bottom pic are so her (click pic for a larger view)!!

Gun show

I went to a gun show today.

I never thought in a million years I would go to one.

Well, to be fair, it was a gun and knife show.

A couple of weeks ago Dale asked me if I wanted to go to it with him. I answered yes because he has done things with me that interest me, even though I know he was cringing the entire time.

So I said yes.

We arrived around noon. The admission was $6.00 per person.

I had asked him earlier in the week how much the admission fee was, and he said he thought $5.00. A $5.00 admission fee seemed excessive; I mean we would only be looking at guns....and okay, knives. But $6.00?

So we went in.

I didn't want to go... ya know, but I was determined to stick it out and be positive. That's what love is about... give and take.. I totally know that.

The place was packed with people. Mostly men, but there were some couples.

The first couple I noticed was a mirror of us. The man was studying the merchandise..intently...and the woman was standing next to him trying not to look bored. That was me.

But as boring as it was, I did see some pretty neat looking guns, including a rifle used in the Civil War. We went from one booth to the next looking at what seemed like the same merchandise we had just seen.

I got excited when we neared the last booth. Finally, we could leave! However, the only way out was through another building, which was also full of guns and knives. I begged Dale to look quickly as we had already been there two hours. So he did and we ended up leaving with sore feet about 30 minutes later.

My son is allowed to drive

Jason got his learner's permit today. I feel so old.

He actually failed the first time he took the test, missing just a couple over the allowed limit, so David took him again today.

I am so excited for him because I think it's a big deal to get your driver's license.

I remember when I got my first license.... learner's permit. It was freedom, even though there had to be an adult sitting in the front supervising.

At the time, the "adult" in my life was Nana; my grandmother. Whenever we drove anywhere, she was by my side and my sister was in the back criticizing.

At 16, I could drive solo. Nana suddenly ended up in the back seat. I was cool then. And, driving solo made me feel grown up. I volunteered to drive any where, any time, and for any reason.

Now, I get to teach Jason to drive and I am terrified. I know he will be a good driver but it's scary to think of him controlling something so big.

Here he is. Good pic, I must say, considering his hair is so long. At least he parted his bangs so his eyes are visible.



I asked him if I could take his license to work with me tomorrow because I wanted to show it off to my coworkers.

He said no.

The shirt that wasn't

I was folding laundry and came across a girl's shirt that's wasn't Jessie's.

It is not uncommon to find myself folding unfamiliar laundry. Laundry that is way cooler than the stuff I buy my kids. I swear, Jessie has the best wardrobe going... and it consists mainly of items she has inherited from friends.

But for every piece she has inherited, a piece has been bestowed... believe me. I can't tell you how many items of clothing I have bought her only to see it worn once or twice before it "disappears."

So, anyway, I am folding laundry and find a shirt I don't recognize.

It was the kind of shirt that has the illusion of a shirt on top of a tank-top. They are cool indeed, but when they are inside-out and you are trying to get them rightside-out, they are not cool.

I fussed with it. I fought with it. I twisted it this way and that, but I could not get the shirt to look right. And I would need it look right before I could fold it. After all, I am compulsive that way.

Maybe the extra shirt was supposed to drape off the left hand shoulder, I thought to myself as I wrestled with the fabric.

I held it up and studied it. Then something became obvious to me.

The combo shirt was not a combo shirt after all. It was a tank top AND the skirt that went to her bathing suit held together by static electricity.