After spending an entire week in pajamas with tissues crammed up my nose, I had to get out of the house yesterday.  The Girl Scouts needed food and equipment for their weekend camping trip.  Noah had karate.  Sarah had to be picked up from the Student Council trip that kept them in Nashville all week.  Sick or not, there was STUFF to do.  I didn’t care that my nose looked like Andy Capp’s or that globs of slime flew out of my mouth when I coughed.  At one point I was sitting and resting with Evan while Doug chatted with an employee.  A man started to walk by, but stopped and stared . . . at my chest.  I looked him in the eye and he continued his stare for what felt like forever before walking away without ever making eye contact with me.  I tried to decide if telling Doug that some guy was staring at my middle-aged housewife’s chest would make Doug laugh or complain when Sarah leaned into my ear and whispered “You’re not put back together.”  Sickness or stupidity, I never put my clothes back in order after feeding Evan a short time earlier.  Doug spun around at that moment to see me buttoning my shirt.  I groused at him for allowing me to run around half dressed and he said (grrrr) “Oh, I didn’t notice.”  Can you feel the love?  Lacking any sense of modesty or pride, I buttoned up and continued with my evening as though I hadn’t just flashed some poor man.