Yesterday was gorgeous until around 5:28pm, when a rumbling black cloud of death leaking lightning descended upon the office campus and hovered there, waiting for me to make a break for my car.
So I was already a soggy unfortunate mess upon reaching hearth and home and didn’t bother to change out of my adorable dress prior to taking the dogs out. What, was it going to get more wet? Unlikely. The rain itself had already stopped. The worst was over.
In addition to an adorable soggy dress, I also have an adorable pair of boat shoes. They’re red, which is why I own them. They’re also rubbery and resistant to goop and so perfect for doing the doggy rounds. I think they’re called boat shoes because people are supposed to wear them on boats. And, if worn on boats, they should be able to retain traction on wood that has been sprayed with water. Ostensibly. My boat shoes are complete poseurs.
I took one little bitty athletic stride out of the dog park, off the mulch and onto a wooden landscaping rail-road tie slick with rain and BIT IT. I fell all the way down like a total four year old. My face even hit the dirt. While I lay there giggling and a little shocked at the sudden change in altitude, my dumb brown dog bunny hopped over and slobbered all over me stepping all over my back and wriggling with glee that mommy was playing in the mud with him, holy gosh best day ever.
Stripped of all dignity, I tried to bat one dog away, gain a foothold in those worthless shoes and not flash the entire world while scrambling to my feet. Eventually, after exerting great effort, I was successful in standing back up, dripping with mud from my forehead to my calves, bloody boo boos on both elbows, knees and a couple of impressive bruises in other unexpected places. Just when I was about to commence the walk of shame back to my house I noticed – to my unending mortification – that there was a man sitting in an idling car eight feet away from me. Just drinking it all in.