I grew up in a very caring family but one with limited resources.  My dad worked at a refinery and my mother was a housewife so there was not much money for non-essential items. When I was in the 9th grade, I was invited to a house party that was "dress-up."  The clothes I wore to school were jeans and T-shirts and I had one pair of slacks for church. We decided that maybe I could wear my dad's only suit to the party.  I tried it on.  The coat was a pretty good fit but the pants were much too long. My dad wasn't a big man but he was taller than me because I was short for my age.  I tried pulling the pants up to about my chest then tightened the belt until it was snug.  I put the coat on, buttoned it and took a look in the mirror.  "Wow!" I thought, "It doesn't look bad. Maybe even pretty sharp."  I arrived at the party on that hot, muggy Houston night feeling pretty good about myself.

I can't remember if the air conditioning in the house was off or just not working well because of all the people in the house but I do remember it got hot awfully quick. All the other boys were coming out of their coats until I'm the only one still wearing one. Sweat was dripping off of me.  Everyone was trying  to get me to take my coat off and I started to think I was going to have to fight to keep it on.  I spent a lot of time outside because it was actually cooler there than in that crowded house.

I never took the coat off and I don't think anyone ever found out the real reason for me being so stubborn.  If they did, I never heard about it--but what a miserable time!