The Damned Dryer.

This morning I was helping Joe get dressed and I picked out one of his western shirts with the snap buttons.

Once he was all dressed and ready to head out to breakfast, he let out a huge sneeze and six of his snaps came undone around his little pot belly.

He said, “Well would you look at that! My shirt must’ve shrunk.”

I laughed and helped him get all of his buttons snapped again and we headed out to breakfast.

During breakfast, he sneezed again and those same six snaps popped open.

Joe said, “For the love of God! What the hell’s wrong with my shirt!”

Dot said, “You’ve been eating too many sweets Joe.”

Joe said, “Well what the hell do sweets have to do with my shirt shrinking up in the damned dryer?!”

Dot just looked at me, shrugged, and went back to eating her raisin bran.

I finally convinced Joe to change his shirt after he flopped down on the couch and every single snap popped open on his shirt except for the one closest to his neck.

He shouted, “For God’s sake! I don’t know why, but this shirt’s too damned small!”

Dot started to say something and I told her that it wasn’t a good time.

Joe whispered to me, and knowing that Dot doesn’t hear very well, he said, “She’s gonna tell you to stop giving me ice cream…whatever you do, don’t listen to her!”

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