Last week I dialed to soldier, “Yeah it’s warm here today. Warm enough I got to put on shorts and do some work in the yard.”"Shorts?! No, P, no. Don’t wear shorts.”

“What do you mean, don’t wear shorts? Why not?”

“Because I’m jealous! I don’t want anyone lookin’ at you legs.”

“Oh for Godsakes.”

“I mean it, P. Can’t you wear some long pants when you go out? Long and baggy? I just don’t want people… MEN looking at your legs is all.”

“I said, oh for Godsakes! I am wearing shorts! I am wearing them all summer long so just figure out how you’re going to deal with this.”

“Ah, P, why do you have to be this way? Why can’t you just do what I tell you? Why can’t you just listen to me and do what I tell you to…”

“Um… ’cause I’m not in your army?”

~~

Then regarding the guy who followed me around the store…

“You’re going to have to start wearing your T-shirt,” he said. “Your shirt with the surgeon general’s warning on it.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that say?”

“It’ll be one of those bars like you see on cigarettes but yours will say, surgeon general warns that talking to me could be hazardous to your health.”

“I’m not wearing that shirt.”

“I didn’t figure you would but you should. You should wear that shirt.”

I snorted. I’m raised by MEGA-Aquarian parents, I don’t suppose I will have another making my clothing choices. ::rolls eyes::