Before I begin, can I just say I’ve had many blogs through the years? Well, I have and not once have I had a blog that refused to leave me signed in. Every single time I’ve attempted to remain logged in, they say, “Haha, NOPE!” So annoying.
Anyway, so about two weeks ago, I was at Applebee’s with my mom and sister, enjoying a nice lunch. I couldn’t tell you what they ordered. Oh, wait. Yes, I can. My sister ordered fried green beans as her meal. My mom’s meal is irrelevant to the story, so I won’t try to remember what the hell she had. So, we’re sitting there, having a good time. I asked Karen (my sister) if I could snag a green bean, and she said, why yes, of course you may pluck a bean from my plate (maybe not in those exact words). Instead of asking her to pass the plate, as a normal polite person would, I decided to reach over with the hand furthest from her. In the process of doing this, my elbow bumped into my glass and thus resulting in a lake of iced tea all over the table, eventually ending in a waterfall. All over my pants. Not just down my thighs, but under my ass as well. My pants were nice and soaked for a few hours afterwards, but at least we could all get a good laugh out of it, including our waiter who brought over a takeout lid for my freshly filled glass of iced tea, because clearly I needed it.
Then just yesterday I was at my brother-in-law’s for a BBQ. Danny (my fiance) and I were sitting at a table. My Solo cup was on the clothed surface, and I was a little concerned. Some storms are headed towards Long Island (they should make their grand entrance at any moment now actually, and I can’t fucking wait), so the winds have been of tropical storm caliber and they were stupid crazy(I added that “stupid” for extreme emphasis). The table cloth was billowing around my cup and I said to Danny, “Maybe it’s not such a good idea to put my cup there.” I picked it up to secure it in my hands and he said, “Nah, it should be fine.” After thinking about it for a moment, I decided he was probably right, because come on, the cup was basically full and weighted by my drink. So, I put it down on the table once again and what happens? You see where this is going. A huge gust of wind came along and blew the fucking thing right over and where did every last drop of soda land? On my pants. Danny was quick enough to grab my phone off my lap before any of it landed (cat-like reflexes FTW), but I found myself with soaked jeans. For the second time in just a couple weeks. Luckily my sister-in-law had some sweatpants that magically fit my enlarging ass (Sisterhood of the Travelling Sweatpants?), but I mean, what the hell?
Moral of this story: I need to invest some money in some sippy cups and always bring an extra pair of pants.