The days seem to follow a similar routine. You awaken and lay eyes on your beautiful daughter and thank God above for this gift he’s granted you. Then the day wears on, and things head downhill. And then you find yourself, seated at the computer in the dark of night, looking for black market baby auction services. Uhhh, just kidding…but if you know of such a thing…The biggest downside to the whole thing is that our brain functionality has been cut by somewhere in the neighborhood of 70%. A few days ago I watched my wife drop no less than four things over an impressive five minute stretch.
Meanwhile I’ve been far worse than her. A couple of weeks ago I headed to Target in search of a scale to replace our old one. I wheeled into a nice parking space, turned off the car, and prepared for my quick mission into Target. It was at that point I attempted to hop out of the car, only to be mercilessly jerked back inside by the seat belt I had failed to unbuckle. Still reeling from that episode, I wandered into Target and proceeded to be mesmerized by the various offerings. I wandered up to the checkout with Archer Farms mushroom risotto, Diet Mountain Dew, and about five other items. Only when I was unloading my purchases back at the house did I realize that none of the items I was removing from the bags and putting in the pantry was a bathroom scale, my only reason for going to Target in the first place.
I wish I could say that was my only recent mental lapse, but unfortunately that is not the case. I’ve always had a bad habit of piling my in-between clothes (these are items that are not freshly washed but can, in my opinion, endure another wear before being relegated to the laundry basket for washing) on a table in our closet. Recently I noticed that a shirt near the top of this pile had a faint odor to it. Being the responsible adult that I am, I moved it from the in-between pile in the closet to the laundry basket without another thought. Actually, I momentarily thought it might be the smell of bat pee, but decided against that theory. A few days later on a Saturday I grabbed a pair of shorts from the pile for wear in the course of my errands. While sitting at Great Clips that afternoon, I noticed that these shorts possessed a smell similar to that of the shirt, but an even more virulent version. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it seemed like maybe something garlicy. Either way, I hoped that the lady cutting my hair was far enough away from my shorts region not to notice. I returned home and went about my errands, increasingly bothered by the smell. Finally, I checked in with my wife to see if she thought they smelled. She told me in no uncertain terms that yes indeed they did smell. So I changed shorts and thought no more of it until I got a call at work from her a couple of days later.
“Ummm, do you remember how your shorts smelled horrible on Saturday?”
“Sure, why?”
“Because I just got done washing them and they had a Ziploc bag filled with dog poo in the pocket!”
“Oh, uhh, yeah that would probably explain it.”
Apparently about a week earlier while walking the dogs I had jammed a bag of poo into the lower pocket of my shorts and then completely forgot about it. There’s a feature you don’t see listed in cargo shorts ads!
Shorts have 10 inch inseam, zip fly, and two lower pockets into which you can cram dog poo on walks (note that dog poo should be removed from cargo shorts at end of walk)
Outstanding!
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