A Man in Uniform 
Part One: Time to Iron

Ladies, confess. There is something about men in medals and pressed uniforms.

One afternoon Bud brought home from his new Base job three sets of uniforms-- pressed, folded, sealed in clear bags. He had to try on each uniform so to ensure each fit. As a mom that was my happy excuse.
Though I turned grumpy when I had to iron the fold wrinkles on three shirts and three pants.

Bud said yes, to my later query about whether someone had measured him. One could see the newly stitched waist seams on his navy blue pants. On his buttoned down shirt a snap replaced the button below the collar, a snap, he showed me, that must be closed against his neck while he worked. Now to pray his job would keep him as trim as his hobbit munching habits had led his build to become.

With a new job, you find you have to juggle to adjust your habits. Especially first and second lunch, which on busy days he forgot to eat until he came home. A few days he even forgot to bring home the insulated lunch bag, then two of them ---his and then his sister’s bag that he had on loan when he forgot his bag again.

“Guess what, Mom?” he tried to distract me. This Mr. Boy, my 21 year-old second grader.

“The dishwasher broke?” I still frowned.

“Yes!” he beamed, “I had to scrub . . . I did the trays.”

I contacted his counselor and then his boss who had locked both bags in his office right next to the punch-out clock. Off the phone I grumbled as much as the late night I started to press out the extra wrinkled folds. I usually like to iron, but I went into a hissy fit. My beloved Husband wisely pulled me from the ironing board and took over.

As for Bud’s lunches, the boss worked a way to fit first and second around the restaurant’s work shift. The boss also indicated he understood about the bags. But Grumpy Mom continued to reprimand Bud, to verbally imprint on his mind the need to carry home the bags. The next morning he went to work with a plastic sack in hand.

And after work he left, empty-handed. However, he looked handsome in a working uniform that fit him well.

Moral of the Tale: When you send off a man in uniform to a new job, give him time to adjust to his new position. And don’t get steamed if you find you have to step in to iron out the kinks.

The Picture: Next time you’ll see the new uniform and additional accoutrement. For now enjoy the photo of what he wore when he landed the job.