I wore 35 shirts last week. I know because I just hung them up in my closet. And yes, all 35 shirts were, in one way or another, t-shirts. Stay-at-home dads don't wear many button-up shirts. And yes, I put my t-shirts on hangers. I don't fold my underwear, but I hang up crusty old t-shirts. That's just me.

So started thinking about it. How could I wear 35 shirts in a week? Well, here's how:

Sunday
Shirt #1 (old green J. Crew T; holes everywhere): I wore this one the night before, and since it's my job to get up with the boys bright and early this morning, I don't go looking for another shirt.

Shirt #2 (grey shirt from some beer festival): It's 9 a.m., and the temperature is already 89 degrees. I'm sweating my ass off. And since I can't take a shower right now, I change shirts. This will be a common theme.

Shirt #3 (navy blue T that's a bit too small for me): Sam spit all over my shirt while feeding. From birth, Max was a fastidious and enthusiastic eater. Sam often could care less about food, and lately he's gotten into the habit of storing food in his cheeks and then releasing it in one fell swoop...just when I'm not paying full attention.

Shirt #4 (Gil Thorp comic strip T): It's too hot to wear a shirt that's too small for me. It's now 1 p.m., and the temperature is right around a hundred. The heat index is 106 or something. I've gotta lose 10 pounds before I wear that blue shirt again.

Shirt #5 (Albuquerque Isotopes T): I finally get a shower at 4, and I need a new shirt. This one is a little small--and black, besides--but it's what I picked out.

Shirt #6 (Pumpkin-colored Target T): Not a good choice. The 'topes shirt is too tight for lounging on the couch with a couple beers. Gonna have to lose some weight to do much time in this shirt, too.

Monday
Shirt #7 (plain grey T with stretched-out neck): We're going to the pool for playgroup, and I pick out a shirt that has been worn to pieces. It's got lots of room for catching a breeze, which I'll need.

Shirt #8 ("Captain New Mexico" shirt made by my brother): My head is killing me. We spent almost four hours at the pool--and the temperature is above a hundred. Jesus. I got some sun, but mostly I got a real brain racker. Time to go grocery shopping.

Shirt #9 (bleached-out puke-green WUNC-FM pledge drive T): One hour in my car=one completely soaked shirt. It's hot. Real damn hot. I think the spinach cooked on the drive home

Shirt #10 (yellow T with blue trim, a gift from Barbara): Sam spit carrots all over the last shirt. Now I'm wearing this one. It's still new, and it isn't very comfy. Needs to be washed about 20 more times to get that good, soft t-shirt feel.

Shirt #11 (Bell's Beer "Expedition Stout" T): The yellow shirt was too itchy. And anyway, it's all sweaty by now. We've got to keep the AC at 85 just to keep it from running all the time. It's 10 p.m., and it's 92 degrees outside. Eeeerghh!

Tuesday
Shirt #12 (Kansas City Chiefs division champs 2004 T, a gift from my parents): 9 a.m. Barbara took Max to Parent's Morning Out. So I wore this, in anticipation of the inevitable.

Shirt #13 (plain yellow T): 9:21 a.m. Replacement after the inevitable, this time with bananas. Had to change shorts and scrub the floor, too.

Shirt #14 (blue T with bleached out bottom): 12:20 p.m. Time to pick up Max. And I'll be damned if I'm going over there in a sweat-drenched shirt.

Shirt #15 (grey--formerly black--T with ragged neckline): 12:35 p.m. Walking one block with Sam strapped to me in his Baby Bjorn reduced previous shirt to a damp rag. It's now 103 degrees..

Shirt #16 (faded dark blue T with three buttons at the top): Turned off the AC so Sam and Max could nap (they tend to wake up when the fan comes on), so the temperature in the house reached 87. Eighty-seven,, humidity and no breeze means lots of sweat. Changed all my clothes this time.

Shirt #17 (grey T with pocket): Spilled supper on blue shirt. Plus a return encounter with Sam that pretty much soaked my front.

Wednesday
Shirt #18 (Kansas City Chiefs division champs 1995 T): If it worked yesterday, it'll work today.

Shirt #19 (Politically Incorrect T--a gift from the TV show to my brother, who passed it on to me): Heat index expected to reach 115. I know I'll never make it to noon in this shirt, especially since I've got to drive over to the Independent and pick up their files for uploading onto the web.

Shirt #20 (plain green T): Got to look nice for the folks at PMO. It's a throwaway in this heat, but it does look nice.

Shirt #21 (Ales of Devon T, purchased at the CAMRA tent at the Devon County Show, 2000): This one is threadbare and too small, but that ought to be a plus when I turn off the AC for the boys's naps.

Shirt #22 (plain blue T): Not enough of a plus. One hour without AC was too much for that shirt.

Shirt #23 (burnt green T): Probably too nice to wear at 4 in the afternoon, but it's what struck me when I opened the closet. Ought to make it through dinner.

Shirt #24 (Louisville Glassworks T, a present from relatives): This is one of my best workout shirts, and tonight I get to go to the gym. Woo-hoo!

Shirt #25 (KC Monarchs jersey, non-replica, a present from my father-in-law): A good, loose, end of the evening shirt. I manage to finish with this one, even though it is still 94 degrees at midnight.

I can hear all of you asking, "How did you manage three more days with only 10 shirts?" Well, the heat broke Thursday night, and Barbara threw all my shirts in the washer Saturday morning. I'd detail the rest of them (I am so proud of my t-shirts), but I'm already repeating myself and this column is too long. So you'll just have to take my word for those other 10 shirts.

I hope that's alright.

Jon Worley sweats so much a doctor once prescribed a roll-on anti-perspirant for the soles of his feet. It didn't work.