And then I was naked.

 Okay– so first of all, Summer Lessons is out, and so far folks are liking it– that’s always nice to hear 🙂

Second of all, we drove up to Grass Valley for a craft fair on Saturday.

Now, this was sort of funny. My stepmom was talking about a girl’s day out a few weeks ago. I couldn’t make it then, and I was depressed because it was at a craft fair, and I love them.

We started talking about craft fairs, and a week later she said, “There’s one in Grass Valley!”

“Oh, great! I wonder if Mate would want to come!”  See–I’d forgotten completely about the girl’s day, because Mate likes to do different stuff, and, well, I’ve been missing time with Mate that didn’t involve a sports object of some sort.

Anyway– stepmom bailed because it’s partially an outdoor venue, and because it was pissing down rain.

But Mate, who gets all excited about squelching rain in his tennis shoes was all excited to go, so we went.

And we had a great deal of fun.

And we bought Christmas presents, both cool and odd. (Christmas ornaments made out of goose eggs. I was immune to their charms, but Mate was enchanted.)

And ZoomBoy got a whole new batch of bath bombs–those bath salt things that dissolve when you toss them in? He loves them–and he was particularly bedazzled by one called Reindeer Poop. One bath bomb and our house smelled like gingerbread and evergreen.

And so did ZoomBoy–he was thrilled!

Squish got herself a cocktail hat that is FABulous–now it just needs a dress.

Dad got my parents the perfect Christmas gift–and me?

I bought yarn.

Because.

Alpaca/wool in 620 yard put ups. It was just too delicious not to!

And on the way home?

We stopped at a Beach Hut, and discovered these.

They were weird. But at least they weren’t a usual Saturday, right?

So anyway–

Everybody got home and napped and dried off, and I went to serve pie, because it was the sort of day that deserved pie, really, and a terrible thing happened.

See, if you follow me on Twitter, you know that I went to take the dogs for a walk, and I had to juggle dogs, leash, phone, and, oh my God–pants!  We were down to the two pairs of pants in my collection that I ordered when I was sure I was the size of a full grown bull elephant.

Now in fact, I’m only the size of a modest hippopotamus, but these pants…

These pants are bull elephant pants.

I was pulling them up all day at the craft fair. Walking between the buildings in the pissing down rain went like this: Squelch, squelch, yank, squelch, yank, squelch, yank, squelch, squelch, squelch, “I gotta to to the bathroom!” because by then my underwear had fallen down inside the pants and then I came out and resumed the cycle again.

But I made it, right? I made it home, took them off to nap, put them back on to resume my day, and here I was, all safe and sound in the kitchen, slicing pie.

I came to the living room with a slice of pie in each hand, ready to hand them to Mate and Squish, when it happened.

Yup, right around my ankles.

I stood there for a moment, feeling stupid as Mate and Zoomboy dissolved into hoots of laughter.

With dignity I stepped out of my pants and went to give them their pie when I felt the full horror of my situation descend.

“Take the pie!” I begged. “Take the pie! My underwear are–fuck!”

Mate managed to say “Look away, child, look away!” (ala DeadPool) before he lost his shit. Squish had to grab the pie while I pulled up my underwear and stepped back into my pants.

“What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.

“Recovering my dignity so I can get the other two pieces of pie,” I told her, as composedly as I could.

“You mean you have some left?”

“Pie?”

“No, dignity. I knew you had pie.”

“Well good, because no, that was apparently the last dignity I’ll ever have.”

Mate and ZB dissolved into laughter again and I sat down with my pie.

As I stuffed a bite in my mouth, Mate said, “You know, your pants have been trying to do that all weekend.”

“Well now that they’ve fulfilled their mission, I think I need to turn them into a craft project, don’t you?”

He chuckled, and I went back to planning something for the pants that involved a roller-cutter and lots of tiny pieces.

But even if I used them to spell out the word, I think my dignity is never coming back.


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