It looked the same to me, but what do I know? She put out candlesticks and said,
“Rick, can you load the dishes and run them? I’d like a chance to get cleaned up.
After that you can change. And Bryce? What are you wearing?”
Mom, it’s the Bakers. Are you trying to make them feel totally worthless?
Trina and I agreed on a dress-up, so—“But why?”
My dad put a hand on my shoulder and said, “So we can all feel equally uncomfortable, son.”
Women. I looked at her and said, “Does that mean I have to wear a tie?”
“No, but some sort of button-down instead of a T-shirt would be nice.”
I went down to my room and ripped through my closet looking for something with buttons.
There were lots of buttons, all right. Lots of geeky buttons.
I thought about boycotting my mother’s dress-code requirements, but instead I started putting on shirts.
Twenty minutes later I still wasn’t dressed. And I was extremely ticked off about it because what did it matter?
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