I'm sitting in the car completely bare assed. Well, not in an obscene way. I'm not trying to be a nudist or anything. In fact I have a big sweater wrapped around my waist to hide my lack of lower body garments. What makes my current circumstances even more pathetic is it didn't have to be this way. Only a few minutes before as we were walking out the door to go Kayaking at Sylvan Lake, Mark said, "are you sure you don't want to bring a change of pants?" For some reason, I can't currently recall, I scoffed at him and shot him the 'What? Do you think I'm a child?' look. Hence I have no one to blame for my current pant-less condition other than myself. I see my pants & underwear leaking fitfully on the floor of the car. I mentally try to will them to stop dripping. They stubbornly continue to spill rivers of liquid.
However, as I hear the motor turn over I realize there are worse things in the world than clothing that is willfully ignoring my mental commands. I grab Mark's arm & give him a look I hope he interrperts as VERY importantant & not gas from the poorly chosen tidbits from lunch, then I look deep into his eyes and say, "Do.not.get.into.an.accident".
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