Quit staring at my chest.

Jill, Charlie and I went to the park together this morning. I circled the park two times for a needed five mile run while Jill and Charlie hunted for garage sales nearby. Two miles in, I turned my right ankle on a rutted section of path. Two old ladies stopped to help me. I told them I was fine and ran through the pain.

Obviously sensing my injury, a guy made a move past me with one mile to go. I sprinted the final quarter mile and overtook that same man. I felt vindicated. I finished in under an hour.

I stretched in the gardens. Jill and Charlie met me there. Charlie wanted to touch the fuzzy grass.

Jill told me she found a hiking backpack for carrying Charlie. She wanted me to take a look at it. She had already researched it on the internet through her phone. When I got to the car, I realized I left my change of clothes at home. My shirt was soaked with sweat. I figured I'd pick up another shirt at the garage sale.

When we arrived I asked the woman in charge if she had any shirts for sale. She returned with a blue shirt. I put it on.

"Is it men's?" I asked.

"No," she said, "It's a woman's maternity shirt."

"Well, that should be just fine." I thought.

It was navy blue and had plunging neckline. The lady laughed when I put it on. So did someone else. I felt so exposed. I was too nervous to ask for the white camisole to cover my chest hair and cleavage. But remarkably, it fit in the right places. I put Charlie in the pack and he giggled when I stood up. The barely used Kelty carrier was a good buy at $50. The $1 I paid for the shirt was practically extorted from me.

We drove to Hanson's restaurant on Pearl Street because we had a BOGO coupon from the Entertainment book.

"Are you secure enough in your manhood to wear that to lunch?" Jill asked me on the way there.

"No," I thought. "Yes." I said.

I pretended to miss the turn to the restaurant and I circled the neighborhood looking for another sale. There were signs posted, but I was confused. Jill told me I looked "metro."

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Stupid?"

I found out it meant if I shaved my chest hair I could get in to certain nightclubs.

Luckily, we were the only ones at Hanson's. Jill asked me if she could explain to the waitress about my shirt. I told her no way, that she probably wouldn't even notice. The waitress brought waters to the table with lemon wedges. Charlie said "lemon!" I let him have my lemon. He likes to suck on them and make sour faces. When I ordered, the waitress couldn't stop staring at my chest.

Charlie fell asleep on the way home. We're going to take a hike tomorrow and use the new pack. I gave Jill the shirt I bought to save it for whenever she gets pregnant again.