STILL MY SHIRT

Dear Spike:

One day, shortly after we began living together, your mother came down the stairs wearing my Manchester United jersey.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” I noted.

“My shirt,” she corrected.

“Um... no, that’s definitely my shirt — you don’t even know what Man-U is.”

“Is it a college?”

“No, it’s not a college.”

“Oh well, still my shirt.”

Over the years, your mother has managed to purloin more and more of my soccer jerseys.

And now, it seems, there’s another thief in our midst.

Sigh.

Love,
dad