His day started pretty much the same as any other day. He roused himself from a deep sleep around 7am, sat up, took his pills and checked his blood sugar. Quietly, he pulled on his pajama bottoms and tip toes out of the bedroom, making his way downstairs to the family room.
He opened his computer and powered up and flicked on the television and clicked the remote until he landed on the all news channel.
He checked his blog comments and scrolled through Facebook, then played a game or two of solitaire on his laptop.
His wife arose - sleeping-in a bit because she was on holidays - stepped to the kitchen and made them a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and bagels.
Neither was aware of the sense of foreboding that was building. Or the five or six boding, for that matter.
After breakfast, he cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and dinner the night before, emptied the dishwasher and then told his wife, "I'm going to take my shower." Unheard by either of them a Hitchcockian soundtrack started up, accompanying his undressing, his turning on of the water and the beginning of his soaping up. And then he farted. Did you ever fart in the shower? It kinda kills the moment. He quickly rinsed off, stepped out, towelled off, combed his hair brushed his teeth and stepped into his underwear and summer shorts.
All of a sudden that soundtrack started up again and it made him hesitate as he reached for the closet door. A voice in his mind said, "Don't open that door, don't open that door...and then like all horror movies he'd ever seen, he did.
Oh my God, he was nearly out of t-shirts. T-shirts, you see, formed the bulk of his wardrobe other than golf and Hawaiian shirts. He stepped back out of the closet in shock. He had no special plans that day so he found an old Ragged Ass Road - Northwest Territories tee and slipped into it. That's the logo on the shirt, not the condition it's in.
And then a miracle occurred. While in the shower his wife had checked the mail. Talk about coincidence, there was a package addressed to him. And in the package was...
...a gift from his blogging buddy Indigo Roth, all the way from Jolly Old England. He thought maybe Indigo was so moved by the birth of Prince George he sent tees he'd designed to folks all over the world. Thanks, Indigo, he said to himself, what a great guy...and so talented too.
On the tee Indigo had drawn a Sharp Dressed Cat. And he mused to himself, "Now I will be too."