My mom pulled into the driveway and saw my dad, mowing the lawn. The Mr. Kotter look alike was in a three-piece suit. Paisley, stripes, and plaid adorned both torso and trunk. All blue.The vest could do little to hide the boldly patterned tie, which he used to mop his brow. My father looked like he got dressed in the dark. Blindfolded.

She got out of the car, mouth agape. Incredulous at the scene before her, she stood with her hands on her hips, waiting.

He killed the mower, sauntered over to her and said, “‘What?”

“What? That’s it? What are you wearing? And why are you wearing that to mow the lawn?”

“ I got a lot of weird looks at the bank today. And people kept honking for some reason.”

“ I’m sure you did. You look like a buffoon! Mowing the grass in a suit. Didn’t even change your shoes. I don’t know what to be more angry with…..your outfit or cutting the grass wearing dress clothes. What were you thinking? Did you think you matched?”

“ I did match. Everything was blue.”

The kids and I trapeze through the door like burly orangutans, dropping our bags like weights around us. I hear footsteps gallop down the stairs and am met with a man that looks like a mix between a deranged clown and a jailbird. His horizontal multi-colored striped sweater yells obscenities for being paired with navy striped chinos, complete with size 13 cowboy boots, that could also be used for skis.

Rapid fire questions hurl out of me like a pitching machine, destined for a target. My mouth usurps my horror as I bellow, ” No, no, no, no, no! Who did you see today? Who did you meet with? What are you wearing?”

My clueless husband looks at me like a toddler who just peed in his Scooby-Doo training pants.

“ Just a few people. Office staff. Church members. A couple city council members. Some said my sweater was unique actually.”

“ Oh my Lord, that’s more than a few people! Unique? That’s one word for it….you look utterly ridiculous. And those boots. Really? Did you think you matched?”

“ I did match. Everything was blue.”