"Hi Mrs. Post, here's that jockstrap I promised you," Katie said handing Jeff to 90 year old Mrs. Post.
"Oh, Katie, dear, you didn't have to run out and get me a jockstrap. I just asked this morning?" she said in surprise.
"No trouble. Jeff's never been too athletic. This new one has been sitting unused in his drawer for ages," Katie lied, "But you never told me why you need a jockstrap? Memories of your late husband?"
"Oh, no! It's not for me, it's for my caregiver's boy Ramon. She was telling me that he's had another growth spurt and split the seams on his old jockstrap. So a figured a new adult one would help him out. You know he's a football player at Middlebury."
"Middlebury is a college not a high school," Katie remarked.
"Ah, then he should be wearing an adult strap," said Mrs. Post.
"Well, Mrs. Post dinner is in the fridge, and everything's in order, I'll see you tomorrow," said a small woman in a maid's uniform.
"Oh, Sara, wait," Mrs. Post said fishing the jockstrap out of her dressing gown pocket. "Here's that thing you wanted for Ramon. Katie, the dear, picked it up for me."
"Oh, that was kind. One size fits all? Oh, thank you, Mrs. Post, Katie," the small woman said with a nod.
"Uh, Sara, Mrs. Post said your son plays football. What position?"
"Oh, he's not tiny like me. Takes after his father. He's a 300 pound line backer."
"Oh? Uh, are you sure that's big enough?" she had thought Jeff would be worn by a smaller fellow.
"Oh, it's stretchy," Sara said stretching Jeff's waistband, "See?" She frowned as if wondering if it was stretchy enough, and shoved it into her purse. "Got to run, bus will be here any minute."