I think I broke the law this weekend. Whatever law covers “indecent exposure”.
Oh relax, I’m sure I’m over-exaggerating (my close friends know I am), but I did come perilously close to running my car off the road while trying to pull up my pants. There. Now you’re hooked, aren’t you? All part of my evil plot to boost readership. You’ll have to read on to get the full scoop.
You see, it’s all my mom’s fault. Really!! And not just cause Freud says so. You see, she forgot her house keys. And then I thought I’d lost my cell phone. And there was ice cream melting. Ice cream people. Melting!! Because in case you didn’t notice, it was HOT on Saturday. Ok, I’d better back up a bit.
I was in Wendell this weekend, visiting my mom. I brought her a nice hanging plant for her front porch because I love her (and my stock was plummeting for missing Mother’s Day). We watched movies Friday night and did a bit of shopping on Saturday. Which included picking up a few groceries for mom before heading back to the house. All well and good so far. But when we got to her house and she started fishing in her purse for keys, she got this horrified look on her face and it was discovered that the keys were locked in the house. Along with her cell phone. And there was no spare key. And my cell phone was nowhere to be found.
Incredulous at the implications of such a comedy of errors, I sat down on my parents carpeted front porch. Into a giant (unseen) puddle of water. Seems mom had watered her new plant that morning and there was just a bit of overflow. About 5 gallons worth. Let me just note, for the record, that I had no “backup” pair of pants on hand. I proudly packed just one bag for my overnight trip and took pride in how little I needed to travel with.
So there we were. Both irritated and frustrated and the nearest spare key was at least 30 minutes away. Thankfully my phone turned up in a side pocket of mom’s purse and mom developed a plan of attack (take perishables to brother’s house & grab spare key from there) so there was no need for me to stick around.
The problem was that my pants were not just wet, but also dirty. And I don’t have seat covers on my pretty new car. The nicest car I’ve ever owned. That didn’t even have one single stain on the upholstery. So I had a brilliant idea. I’ll just pull down my pants part way so the dirty part isn’t on the seat and just ride in my undies. Smart, eh?!
I got about ten miles out when I started envisioning getting pulled over for speeding (a real possibility in that car) and how was I going to explain my pants situation? Not to mention that I just felt like a total freak. (No comments, please) So I said the hell with it, I’m pullin my pants up. So, if you were driving west-bound on I-84 Saturday evening, near the Bliss/Hagerman exit, and saw a dark silver Mustang weaving all over the road, and a red-faced, chubby girl behind the wheel, you now know “The Rest of the Story”. Whether you wanted to or not.
Note to Mom: It really wasn’t your fault. (I don’t care what Freud says) I brought the plant after all, so it can be traced right back to me. Plus, I locked myself out of my house two weeks ago in a similar situation. When I told Hubby about our situation he said something about the apple falling not far from the tree.