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“Might want to spritz up. It's a little ripe in here.”Fifteen minutes later, we were walking into The Polka Dot Dress, the only clothing store in Jefferson, the small town in Central Oregon that we lived. It was a farming community of just a few hundred. It existed as much for the truck stop off I-5 as the surrounding farms around it. The store got shipments of new clothes once a month, the owner trying hard to get fashionable items for people of all ages.It was dominated by the girls' section.“Oh, my god, they are cute,” moaned my friend as she flew to the new rack of jeans. She pulled one off. “Look at the stitching on the back pocket. That is going to have every guy staring at our asses.”I nodded my head. I pretended I was into guys. “Yep. Come September, every guy at Oregon State's going to be drooling over our butts.”“God, yes,” moaned Jasmine, holding the jeans to her chest, a dreamy look spilling over her eyes. We were both going to Oregon State up in Portland. Our summer. A rich old lady’s birthday is coming up... Her three sons want to impress her. They each go out in search for the perfect gift.The first one, Frank, finds and buys a Swiss Chalet up on a mountain top. He sends her pictures and descriptions in her birthday card.The second son, George, orders her a brand new multi-million dollar Lamborghini with all the bells and whistles to be delivered on her birthday. He sends concept pictures and descriptions in her birthday card.The third son, Jack, wants something completely unique and searches the world for the best parrot available. He finds one that has a 10,000 word vocabulary in multiple languages and arranges for it to be delivered on her birthday.They all show up on her birthday and are greeted at the door. She looks at them and shakes her head. Frank, I don’t know what you were thinking. With my old bones why would I want to be on top of a mountain in the cold? And George, you are a real ass. I don’t drive at my age and I’m not about to.
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