Upstairs or we could do it right here?”“Right here on the couch?” She asked.“Yeah, just like a couple of horny teenagers.”She slapped my arm... “Stop it, Teddy, I’m not a teenager.” But she was smiling.I passed on the obvious punchline ’oh, you’re just horny’, knowing she would deny it, and I would have to explain that it was a joke. I had on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Mom wore a pair of tan slacks and a short-sleeve blue jersey pullover. I stood up and kicked off my sneakers. Mom. Barely the tips of the tails could be tucked in. And though I hardly had a manly chest, it was a tight fit across the front. Then I remembered the missing buttons. The second one down from the collar was still there, barely hanging by a thread, giving a false sense of security regarding the two missing directly below it. If the button was about twice the size, then maybe its ragged hole would've held it tight. I'd finally quit wearing the shirt because every time I turned around the damn thing. More

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